Unnatural Selection
by Nevermore
Summary: What can a disorganized group of transgenics do against a faceless breeding cult out to destroy them? Old and new friends abound as Max, Alec, and company confront their enemies and the complications of their lives. My end of season 2+. (Complete.)
1. Fight or Flight?

James Cameron and Charles Eglee own Dark Angel. My use is in no way meant to challenge their copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned (or any other) copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons (either real or fictional) is unintended.

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Author's Note: I'm initially going to try to keep this solidly in the universe of the show as it currently exists, although I wouldn't be surprised if the direction I go in takes me away from the show's story arc and create a bit of an AU fic. Not that this should be a problem, though, since Dark Angel likely won't be renewed for next season, anyway, so I'll probably have carte blanche to do as I wish soon enough. For those of you curious about where this might be going, check out my story _Meditations Upon the Abyss._ It's not really a prequel, but it helped me get my thoughts in order as I prepared to write this.

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Unnatural Selection

by

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Nevermore

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I – Fight or Flight?

Max walked into Crash and scanned the bar quickly, once again stuffing down the feeling of paranoia that washed over her. For years following her escape she had felt hunted, always fearing that Lydecker and his cronies were waiting around the next corner. As time had dragged on, though, she had slowly allowed herself to believe that she had finally escaped her former masters, or at least that they no longer had any significant interest in tracking her down. This foolish belief had led her to settle down in Seattle.

Within months she had put down roots and done something she never had before – she made friends. Kendra, Cindy, Herbal, Sketchy, and even Normal made her feel as if she was actually like everyone else. Finally comfortable taking a breath and looking around her, Max had dared to start looking for information on her siblings once again. She should have known that her inquiries would freshen the scent for Manticore's hounds. Once again she had been hunted, but in the end she turned the tables on her pursuers and became the hunter. In one night she, Krit, Syl, and Zack had struck a mighty blow against Manticore. Then, shortly after a brief stay in her childhood home, she had put Manticore down for the count. The transgenics were freed and bureaucrats were sent scurrying to complete their cover-up of the whole project and the fiasco that resulted from its destruction.

Freedom. That's what Max had done it all for, so that she would have a true taste of freedom. For a few weeks, all too brief a time, she had actually felt free. Then Agent Ames White, initially just another government flunky she felt destined to outsmart, had become something greater. Now Max fought constant paranoia, knowing the fear she thought she had left behind as a child.

When Max had originally escaped from the Gillette facility, she had been terrified that Lydecker would find her. In her eyes, so inexperienced in the ways of the world, Colonel Donald Lydecker had been a god. He was all-seeing, all-knowing, and all-powerful. As Max grew older she learned what it was like to be human, and that human was all Lydecker was. He could hunt her and double-cross her at every opportunity, but at the end of the day he was simply human, and she was better. He was no bogeyman.

The attack against Manticore had officially destroyed the slim chances that Lydecker would ever return to the project, and Max thought it had been her final victory. Instead, it had been White's opportunity to move into position to strike at the transgenics. Himself the product of a millennia-old breeding program, he was a man that not only had all of the resources that Lydecker had possessed, but who also was able to stand toe-to-toe with any of Manticore's 'super-soldiers.' So now Max was hunted again, and now she knew that she might never be able to get on the offensive. She might forever remain on the run.

Countless times she wished that she had never agreed to attack the Gillette facility in the first place. Her 'victory' had only created a new enemy and left her in a worse position than she had been in before. Now there was no telling how to get her life back on track.

Not immediately seeing any threats, Max sauntered over to the bar and sat down next to Alec, immediately noting that he smelled like a small distillery. He had obviously been there for some time. "Cindy coming down here tonight?" Max asked casually.

"I don't know," Alec answered. "Isn't she your roommate? You should know better than I do."

"Haven't seen her since this morning," Max replied, raising her right hand to get the bartender's attention. She then sat in silence until a beer was placed in front of her. One large gulp had her back in the mood to talk. "Anything new on the Normal and Sketchy front?"

"Not that I know of," Alec answered absently as he decided to get a refill on his own drink. Rather than wave his hand to get the bartender's attention, he simply placed another ten-dollar bill on the bar. He had found that without breasts, the fastest way to get the man's attention was by dropping money around all over the place. "Last I heard, both of them still hate transgenics, and I still think they have some suspicions about you."

"And for some reason Normal hasn't pondered the facts that you're one of my friends and that previous to your lucrative employment as a bicycle messenger you used to be an unbeatable cage fighter?" Max asked with surprise. It was the same question she always asked, the same question that she was always afraid Alec would one day answer.

"He'll put two and two together eventually," Alec replied, his voice holding a hint of something that Max had rarely heard. _What is that?_ She asked herself once again. _Concern? Sadness? Amusement?_ It was always so hard to tell with Alec. Growing up at Manticore hadn't done any wonders for his ability to express emotions. Max often wondered if Alec was still figuring out his feelings, trying to learn when it was and wasn't appropriate to feel, or more importantly, reveal, certain sentiments. She chased away the thought and instead tried to clear her mind, to simply relax in nothingness for awhile. The two sat in silence for several minutes as Max enjoyed her drink and the fact that Alec seemed to relish the feeling of being alone in a crowd as much as she did. "It can't go on like this," Alec suddenly said, startling Max out of her reverie of non-thought.

"What do you mean?"

"Every day I wake up and wonder if this will be the day that White finally catches up to me," Alec muttered. "It never used to be like this."

"You used to be a virtual prisoner at Manticore," Max reminded him. "At least now you're free."

"You think we're free?" Alec asked incredulously. "You're kidding, right? Sure, at Manticore I was restricted to base when I wasn't on a field assignment, but I didn't exactly have it all that bad, either. I had a bit of business on the side, remember? And at least I could go to bed at night without the fear that the result of some twisted breeding cult might kill me in my sleep. Think about it, Max – doesn't it seem strange that I enjoyed more freedom behind the walls of Manticore than we actually do out in the real world."

"You'll get used to it," Max said, trying to get herself to believe the words even as she spoke them. "I faced this for ten years with Lydecker, remember?"

"Ames White ain't Donald Lydecker," Alec countered. "He's smarter, stronger, and has all of his cult-mates backing him up. It's some kind of secret army, and we don't know who they are, where they are, or how many of them there are. We don't even know for sure what their capabilities are, Max. I know what White looks like, so I can at least defend myself against him. But what if he has some cousin that's sent to get me? I won't see him coming until it's too late. Hell, I might never see him at all. I miss the old days."

"You drunk?" Max asked quizzically, wondering where all of this was coming from.

"Maybe," Alec admitted, "but that doesn't change anything. Trust me, no matter how many times I try, every time I sober up my life still sucks."

"I know," Max admitted, finally saying the words she had been thinking for so long. "I can talk about Lydecker until I'm blue in the face, but you're right – it was never like this. As twisted as it was, he cared about us. He wanted to bring us back and turn us into robotic killing machines, sure, but he still cared. White just wants us dead."

"He doesn't want you dead," Alec pointed out. "You're _special_."

"I'd rather be dead," Max said evenly. "I decided long ago that Ames White won't take me alive. I'm not going to be some kind of guinea pig or brood mare to him and his gang."

"So what do we do?" Alec asked as he dropped yet another ten-dollar bill on the bar. "We're faced with a serious enemy, and that means we have two choices – fight and flight."

"A year ago some of us decided that we had had enough," Max said deciding to express her views in a roundabout way, "and we went to war against Manticore. We took them out."

"And that helped release White on us," Alec reminded her.

"What if we take out White?" Max asked.

"And how do we do that?" Alec shot back. "He's strong, Max. Maybe stronger than us. And worse than that, he has friends. Even if we kill him, someone else from that breeding program will just step in to take his place. We might be better off running."

"We'll just have to make sure we get them all," Max replied.

"That's impossible," Alec said.

"Okay, then how about just killing enough of them so that they realize it's not worth their time and effort to keep tracking us down?" Max suggested. "There can't be that many of them, really," she reasoned. "Maybe a thousand, even two-thousand. Can't be many more than that, right?"

"That still outnumbers us by a lot," Alec said.

"But each of them represents the result of centuries of selective breeding," Max answered. "Do you know how valuable that makes each of them? All we want is to be left alone, right? All we have to do is make it too costly for them to keep messing with us."

"Maybe," Alec admitted. "That might work. So how do we go about doing this?"

"When we all attacked Manticore last year we had Zack," Max said. "He led the strike."

"And he's not around to do that this time."

"But he isn't the one that did the planning," Max said. "We need someone with years of combat and leadership experience. We need someone that knows what our enemies are, if not exactly who they are. We need someone who likewise knows exactly who _we_ are, and what we're capable of doing."

"Don't even say it," Alec warned.

"You know we need him," Max said. "He's still alive… somewhere. I can feel it."

"You would follow him?"

"I did once before," Max said.

"And look how that turned out," Alec shot back. "We were just talking about how that's the reason we're in this position in the first place."

"We were also talking about how he actually did care, despite the fact that he had a twisted way of showing it," Max responded with a thin, mischievous smile that she knew would help get Alec interested in this plan.

"You really wanna do this?"

"I'm not running," Max spat, disgusted with the very thought of turning tail in the face of her enemies.

"Then I guess it's a good thing I'm drunk enough to think this is a good idea," Alec replied with a mischievous grin of his own. "Okay then… how do we find him?"

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To be continued……………………………


	2. Reach Out and Touch Someone

James Cameron and Charles Eglee own Dark Angel. My use is in no way meant to challenge their copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned (or any other) copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons (either real or fictional) is unintended.

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Author's Note: Many readers have inquired into the chronology of this story as it relates to the series. This is actually a tough question to answer. Let me try to sum up… I was inspired to write this story after _She Ain't Heavy_, so assume that everything that's happened in the series up to that point has occurred as of this chapter. After tonight's episode (_Love Among the Runes_) I'll try to incorporate new events/spoilers from that episode into later chapters, so that (hopefully) the events of this story will be able to run concurrent with the close of the season (and perhaps the series). Now, I have a bit of an idea where the series is going for the rest of the season, and I've tried to keep that in mind while writing this. Additionally, as with _Love Among the Runes_, if I'm still writing this story as the final episode is aired, I'll try to incorporate the events/spoilers from that episode into this story. Ideally, the result will be a piece that will pick up right where the season (and perhaps the series) leaves off. I hope that explains everything clearly enough.

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II – Reach Out and Touch Someone

"This is stupid," Alec grumbled as Max continued to pore over the information that scrolled across the computer screen, far too fast for a normal human to read, but at the perfect rate for a transgenic.

"Don't distract me," Max muttered in reply. "This isn't as easy as it looks, Alec. This takes concentration."

"He's probably dead," Alec complained for what had to have been the two-hundredth time. Max couldn't be absolutely sure, though – she had lost count four hours earlier. It seemed the more sober Alec got, the more reluctant he was to even consider Max's plan. "We're wasting our time looking for a dead man, Max."

"No one ever found a body," Max replied, suddenly feeling like a parrot. She had said the same thing virtually every time Alec had proposed the theory that Lydecker was, indeed, every bit as dead as he had led the world to believe. "The government was out to get him, Alec. He had to make his death seem as convincing as possible."

"He did a damn good job, Max, because I'm one of the people that really believe he's dead," Alec retorted as he took an old, worn tennis ball from his jacket pocket and began to toss it against the wall.

"Do you mind?" Max hissed as she turned on her partner in crime. She looked around quickly, hoping that there wasn't a guard anywhere nearby. Thus far they had been unbelievably lucky that no one had come by the office they had broken into. She didn't feel like pressing her luck.

"I'm bored, Max," Alec complained.

"I can't believe you've actually been able to stay alive without someone to take care of you every day," Max said evenly. "Were you this much of a pain in the ass back at Manticore."

"No."

"Why's that?" Max asked curiously.

"Don't you remember how they'd punish us when we did something they didn't like?"

"Of course I do," Max assured him. "I remember well enough to do the same things if you don't shut up right now."

"What bug crawled up your ass and died?" Alec shot back. "I'm doing all right. It's not like we've gotten caught." Max instinctively scanned the room again, knowing from experience that it was generally just when Alec said something like that when everything would go south. To her surprised relief, nothing seemed amiss.

"Shut up for just fifteen more minutes," Max replied, trying to keep her temper in check. "If I don't find anything by then, we can go."

"You promise?"

"I'll even buy you ice cream," Max said condescendingly.

"Oh ha-ha," Alec said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Just finish what you're doing and let's get out of here."

"Fine." Max turned from Alec again and started to pore over the names and numbers on the screen – every telephone entry in the country. _Maybe Alec's right,_ she pondered silently. _Maybe Lydecker is really dead. Or maybe he's alive and doesn't want to be found._ She immediately chased the last thought from her mind. _No, if he's alive, he will have done something to make it possible for 'his kids' to find him. He wouldn't abandon us, even if we wanted him to._ She kept looking until she found something that caught her eye. "Oh, you've _got_ to be kidding me," she said with a groan.

"What?" Alec asked. "What is it? You find something?" In an instant he was hovering over her shoulder, watching as Max called up specific information on a number she found. "McDonald & Le Decker Farm Supplies?" he said dubiously. "You've _got_ to be kidding me?"

"Didn't I just say that?" Max asked with a smile. In a flash she was looking at the full listing for McDonald & Le Decker. "452 Bourbon Street," Max commented, shaking her head. "That man sure has a sick sense of humor.

"I don't get it," Alec replied. "Well, besides the whole thing with you being 452."

"Bourbon Street," Max said. "Deck's an alcoholic, not exactly something he spread around. Zack and I knew, but not many other people would have found out. I guess he figured I was probably the only one of the escapees that was likely to go looking for him, what with the way he and Logan were trading information awhile back." Just speaking Logan's name sent a jolt of uneasiness straight through Max. Immediately, as was quickly becoming her habit, she changed the topic. "This is a New Orleans number. I say we call it and see what's up."

"Right now?" Alec asked.

"Well, on the off-chance that it's some kind of trap set up by people who thought escapees might want to look up the colonel, I'm sure as hell not calling from home," Max said evenly. "You think that would make sense?"

"No," Alec admitted, tossing Max the receiver as he dialed the number. "504-555-1485," he said aloud as he pushed in the numbers. He then watched expectantly as Max listened.

"It's a recording," she told him as a calm female voice answered her call. "You have reached the offices of McDonald and Le Decker Farm Equipment Sales," it said evenly. "This is an automated answering service that will forward your business inquiry to the appropriate office. To leave a message for a representative from our Staten Island, New York office, press 1 now." Max was half-tempted to press #1 right away to leave a message, but she decided to wait a few more seconds to make certain there wasn't a more obvious choice. "To speak with someone from our State College, Pennsylvania office, press 2 now. To speak with someone from our Gillette, Wyoming office, press 3 now." _That's it,_ Max decided as she pressed #3. "Please leave a message at the beep."

"It's Max, get in touch with me ASAP," she said quickly. "If this is really you, you'll know how to track me down. Don't take too long." Without another word she hung up the phone, began the computer's shut-down sequence, and stood up to go. "We have to leave," she said to Alec, though he obviously already knew that much. He was looking over the office, presumably making certain they didn't leave any evidence behind.

"I'm right behind you," he said. "So where to now?"

"Seems to me we should get ready for work," Max answered, glancing at her watch as she led the way out. "It's already five."

"Seems like it should be at least ten," Alec replied. "Time sure crawls along at a snail's pace when you have nothing to do for hours on end."

"Oh, poor baby," Max said unsympathetically.

"Now we're sure you want to go through with this, right?" Alec checked.

"Yes," Max stated firmly, noting with surprise that she didn't hear a shred of doubt in her tone.

"Well then maybe we should do one more thing," Alec said hesitantly. Max noticed the uncertain tone in his voice and braced herself for the latest asinine suggestion to burst forth from Alec's lips. "Now don't say anything before you totally hear me out, okay?" he asked, his expression making it abundantly clear that he was about to say something Max wouldn't like. "You told me that when you, Zack, Krit, and Syl attacked Manticore, that Lydecker wasn't the only one to help you."

_Uh-oh, here it comes,_ Max thought angrily, not at all surprised that Alec was bringing up this subject. "Don't go there," she warned.

"There're a lot of things Logan could do to help us," Alec pointed out.

"No," Max responded emphatically.

"Why not?"

"You know why not," Max answered, hoping that would be enough to end the conversation, but knowing in her heart that Alec wasn't going to let this drop so easily.

"This has nothing to do with your relationship," Alec explained. "What I'm saying is that, essentially, we're planning on going to war here. Logan represents a potentially valuable resource, and I don't think you have the right to shut him out of this just because of your personal feelings on the matter."

"This is none of your business," Max spat.

"You're asking me to go along with this potentially suicidal idea of yours," Alec countered. "I think that totally makes it my business. It's also gonna be Lydecker's business, and the business of everyone else you ask to get involved. Logan's a computer whiz with connections up the whazoo-"

"- Not anymore," Max interrupted. "White shot up his apartment."

"But Logan is still intact," Alec replied. "He's one of the few outsiders that actually knows as much as we do about what's going on, Max. We're gonna need everyone we can get, and with him we don't have to take all kinds of time getting him up to speed on the situation."

"No," Max said again, though she knew that Alec would see she was just being stubborn. She silently admitted that there was no good tactical reason for excluding Logan and that her refusal was, as Alec had pointed out, based solely on personal considerations that had absolutely no place in a military decision.

"You don't ever need to talk to him about it," Alec said. "I'll act as an intermediary if you want. You'll never have to see him, and you'll never have to risk re-infecting him."

"It's not right to do this," Max said as they exited the building and walked up to her bike. "He's not one of us, Alec, and this could get him killed even if I never get anywhere near him. Like you said, this is a potentially suicidal idea. Why on Earth would I include Logan?"

"Because he'd never forgive you if you didn't," Alec reasoned. "He's a soldier in his own way, Max. He was crusading for truth, justice, and the American way long before you came along. This is something he'd believe in, and you know it. You have to at least let him know so he can make the decision for himself, Max. You owe him that much." Max stopped for a moment, finding that even the effort of walking was too distracting while she pondered everything she thought and felt.

"Go ahead and talk to him," Max finally responded, feeling her heart knot up in her chest as she said the words. "I can't do it. Just make sure he knows that I'm not asking, okay? I don't want him to do anything as a favor for me just because of our past relationship. If he wants in, then let him know what's up."

"Sure," Alec said. "You want me to give him any messages for you?" he then asked as Max kick-started the Ninja.

"No," Max said miserably, resisting the temptation to ask Alec to give Logan any one of a thousand messages she wished she could convey. _It wouldn't be right to do that,_ she told herself again, hoping that this time she would believe it. As usual, she didn't. She then revved the engine and peeled away down the street, blissfully happy that the engine made enough noise to drown out any more conversation.

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To be continued……………………………


	3. Comrades in Arms

James Cameron and Charles Eglee own Dark Angel. My use is in no way meant to challenge their copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned (or any other) copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons (either real or fictional) is unintended.

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Author's Note: The events of this chapter incorporate everything in the series up to and including _Love Among the Runes_. Simply proceed as though the events of this fic are occurring simultaneously with the close of the season. Oh, and I know Logan still hasn't made an appearance, but I totally promise he'll show up eventually. Just let me set the scene first, k? :)

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III – Comrades in Arms

"Well, I assume that since you and Logan had that little heart-to-heart about you and me that you didn't quite get a chance to talk to him about what we're planning, did you?" Max asked absently as she read over the tech manual for the experimental EM-20 sniper rifle.

"That's a pretty safe assumption," Alec replied. "And I guess you haven't heard anything from the colonel, either, have you?"

"Not a word," Max answered.

"I don't think it's safe here," Alec commented, suddenly changing the topic.

"White's already been here," Max pointed out, glancing around at the shot-up remains of Logan's old apartment. "There's no reason for him to come back."

"But what if he has the place under surveillance in case Eyes Only comes back?"

"He wouldn't expect Eyes Only to do something that incredibly stupid," Max responded without looking up. "He had a chance to take out Eyes Only, and he missed. Instead he destroyed all of Logan's equpiment. C'est la guerre. Now we have a place to hide out, and that's perfect, since this is one of the places Lydecker will come to look for me."

"And you're sure it's safe?"

"Absolutely." A heartbeat later, Max started to wonder if she had spoken too soon. The lights suddenly cut out and a high-frequency alarm overwhelmed her sense of hearing. Within seconds she was in agonizing pain, struggling to see straight and shut out the noise that assaulted her senses. She saw the look on Alec's face and knew he was in just as much pain, and then a shadow darted through the room and hit Alec from behind, sending him sprawling onto the floor, unconscious. Despite the darkness and distractions, Max was able to back into a corner and evaluate the situation. _One attacker,_ she decided, certain she hadn't seen anyone else. _Black clothes… looked like Manticore Special Ops… wearing a black ski mask so I can't tell who it is._ The shadow darted across the room and out of sight again, almost seeming to conduct a quick scan of the penthouse to make sure Max was the only other one present. Seconds later the shadow reappeared, but by then Max was ready. She didn't know who – or what – her attacker was, but she had focused enough to offer all the resistance that one could expect from an X-5.

The shadow was upon her in a flash, a three-punch combination coming in faster than any normal human could have managed. Max was pressed to keep up, but managed to avoid being hit. A quick series of kicks followed, followed by another onslaught of punches, and Max slowly began to alter her strategy, forming her parries into counter-strikes as she attempted to take the offensive. She was a whirling dervish, and her attacker a cyclone. Their movements began to blend into each other, and Max was convinced that the shadow was another Manticore trainee – fast, strong, disciplined, and… "Oomph," Max groaned as an unexpected elbow followed a reverse punch, connecting solidly with her jaw and sending her to the floor. _Son of a bitch fights dirty,_ she thought, suddenly remembering her tussle with her clone. _It's another one of the escapees from my group,_ she dared to wish, right before an iron-toed boot connected with her forehead, temporarily knocking her senseless. Before she could recover her wits, Max felt her body rolled over and her arms pinned behind her back. Once she was immobilized, the ultrasonic shriek cut out and an unnatural silence descended upon the room, seeming to last an eternity… or at least an incredibly uncomfortable thirty seconds.

"You give up?" a familiar voice asked. It wasn't the tone of an enemy asking a foe to yield; it was instead the teasing voice of an older sibling that had managed to win dominance over his sister.

"Oh my God," Max muttered, unable to find other words. Her arm was released and she rolled over as her attacker removed his ski mask. "Zack?"

"Hey," Zack said with a smile. _A smile?_ Max asked herself, wondering if she had ever seen such a content, satisfied look on her brother's face. For a brief moment she remembered the grim, determined visage that had swooped into Seattle so many time in the past, just in time to pull her fat out of the fire. The last time she had seen him, though, he was going away to live a peaceful, secluded life far from everything he had ever known.

"How?" Max asked.

"You want the short version or the long version?" Zack asked, his uncharacteristic smile growing even wider. The hairs on the back of Max's neck started to stand on end, something in her mind noting that the situation seemed all wrong. Some things in Max's life were taken as gospel, and among them was the firm belief that Zack did not smile. Ever.

"Short version will do for now," Max replied. She heard a muffled groan and suddenly remembered Alec. "Actually, hold on a sec," she added, moving over to her fellow Manticore fallout. "No reason for you to go through this twice." Within moments Alec was sitting up, rubbing the back of his head.

"Zack?" he muttered, the shocked, quizzical expression on his face making Max hope she had done better a better job of hiding her surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Lydecker sent me," Zack said, immediately locking eyes with Max, seeming to say, _There's the short version of the story for ya._

"Huh?" Max blabbered. "Lydecker? You're working for Lydecker?"

"No, I work _with_ Lydecker," Zack corrected, seeming to enjoy the reaction he got from his 'siblings.' "Well, where should I start?" he asked rhetorically as Max sat down to listen just as Alec stood up and began to pace back and forth, continuing to rub his head. "Okay, umm… well, it's like this… Lydecker worked with Logan enough to find out some of Logan's contacts out of the city. So he went to those people and got enough information to track down a lot of the Manticore products that Logan helped get into Canada."

"Son of a bitch," Max hissed, furious that even Lydecker could stoop so low.

"He didn't trap any of them or anything," Zack added quickly. "There wouldn't have been any point to it, anyway, since he didn't work for Manticore anymore. When he found someone, he asked if they wanted to join up in his private army."

"His private army?" Alec asked suspiciously, making Max suspect that Alec had the same concerns that she did, herself.

"I'm sure you know about the breeding cult," Zack said evenly. "Lydecker's found out a lot… enough to know war is coming. Soon. He asked others to join up, to do what they were designed to do. Not many re-enlisted, but some did."

"And you were one of them," Max surmised. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. You were supposed to have a normal life."

"Not much chance of that ever happening," Zack responded with a rueful grin. "I am what I am, Maxie. I had amnesia, and then one day a stranger comes onto the farm, telling me he knows who I am."

"Lydecker," Max growled.

"He promised to tell me who I was, to fill in the gaps in my memory," Zack said. "He told me if I wanted to stay with him once I had my memory back, I could. If I wanted to leave, I could do that, too. Seemed like a win-win scenario."

"So you went with him," Max concluded. _And dollars to donuts the colonel never told him the whole truth,_ she guessed. She remembered the technology that was used to help rebuild the destroyed synapses in Zack's mind. There would be some trouble differentiating between memories and dreams… he would be susceptible to misinformation and suggestion. _Lydecker totally used him, just like he did when we were kids._

"The first thing Deck told me was that I hated him," Zack said. "In fact, he warned me that I'd probably want to kill him if I ever fully remembered who he was and where we both came from."

"And you still went with him?" Alec asked.

"Imagine yourself in my shoes," Zack replied. "I had already figured out that I was stronger, faster, and smarter than anyone around me. I saw the way the people on the farm looked at me, I heard the heartbeats of some of them increase when I came around. I knew I made them all nervous but I didn't know why. All I could tell was that I was different, and it made me wonder if that meant I was gifted or cursed. Then a mysterious stranger appeared and offered me the answers, even though it meant I would probably want to kill him… How could I resist? It's the kind of adventure you read about in books."

"So how much do you remember?" Max asked nervously, remembering the last time Zack had been working on his memory.

"I think I remember mostly everything," he said, "though I know that I don't always remember the context of a situation."

"What do you mean?" Alec asked.

"Well, one of the first things I remembered was holding an assault rifle and being enraged with Lydecker, feeling that he had double-crossed me and that my sister would die for it."

"Tinga," Max muttered.

"Yeah, Tinga," Zack agreed. "Took me awhile to remember that I was wrong at the time, that I had misperceived the situation and that Lydecker hadn't double-crossed us, that Manticore had actually double-crossed him."

"That time, anyway," Max said, wanting to make certain Zack remembered that while the colonel might have been on the level that time, he had betrayed them enough before that to make Zack's initial reaction more than justifiable.

"Yeah, that time…" Zack repeated. "So anyway, seems like whenever I remember something new, I have to remind myself not to act on the memory until I have the whole story. Going off half-cocked could easily get someone hurt."

"Easily," Max agreed, remembering everything that had happened when she had first found Zack running with some steelheads. That time he had started to react before waiting for all the information. It was comforting to know he was aware of his psychological limitations.

"So what's the story now?" Alec asked. "I assume Lydecker sent you to meet with us after Max left a message."

"Yeah," Zack confirmed. "For reasons of security he doesn't leave our safehouse. At least not yet, anyway. I'm his field lieutenant. I'm used to going out on recon missions, and I was already in the neighborhood so before going back to him he had me swing by and find out what you want."

"We want to go to war," Max said evenly. "We want to take out White and as many of his people as we can."

"That's what we were hoping you'd say," Zack replied. He looked at his fellow X-5s and suddenly started to seem somewhat uneasy. "Max, I know this is going to seem like a weird question… or maybe it won't, I don't know… but I've been instructed to ask, all the same."

"What?" Max asked nervously.

"Have you noticed anything, I don't know… strange about yourself lately?" Zack asked.

"What do you mean?" Max asked as a chill went down her spine. She knew in her gut that Zack was asking about the strange runes that had suddenly appeared on her skin.

"New tattoos," Zack clarified. "It's okay if you-"

"You mean like these?" Max asked, rolling up her sleeves to display her newest genetically controlled body art.

"Just like those," Zack agreed. "You mind?" he asked, taking a step forward and looking more closely at the indecipherable script.

"You know what it says?" Max asked.

"Not yet," Zack replied. "There's an X-6 the colonel has working on it, though. I'll let Lydecker know what you have on you and we'll see if he can do anything with it."

"What exactly is it?" Alec asked.

"Linear-A," Zack answered. "It's the language of the ancient Minoans, a civilization located on the Mediterranean island of Crete."

"We knew that much already," Max told him. "We heard no one's known the language for centuries."

"The Minoan empire was all but wiped out around 1500 B.C.," Zack said. "The remnants were then folded into the Mycenean Empire, which then rolled into the ancient Greek city-states we all studied back at Manticore. From what our X-6 has said, Linear-A has elements of both Egyptian hieroglyphics and also some kind of an alphabet. It doesn't really have a comparable contemporary counterpart."

"And no Rosetta Stone for this language," Alec griped.

"But there are incredible amounts of records from the Minoans," Zack said, "though most of them deal with commercial trading. The more we have that's different, though – like these runes here – the faster we'll probably be able to decipher everything."

"So what do we do now?" Alec asked.

"I've been instructed to put you in touch with an X-5 that lives in Seattle – X5-782. He goes by the name of Set."

"Set?" Alec asked skeptically. "As in the Egyptian god?"

"As in **S**even **E**ight **T**wo," Zack clarified. "He's real gung-ho about being a soldier… he might have been the best of our generation if Manticore hadn't folded. On the outside, though, there really isn't much of a place for him."

"So what exactly are we supposed to do with him?" Max asked.

"He'll run around the city causing enough chaos to keep most of the local Familiars busy," Zack said. "Or at least that's the plan. There's probably no way to keep White off your ass, but as long as Set keeps a high profile, White'll have even less of his limited resources to bring to bear on the two of you."

"Leaving us free to do what?" Max asked suspiciously. She could tell that the colonel had something special in mind for her.

"Lydecker said you're the key to this whole thing," Zack said. "He never really filled me in on all the details, though, since being in the field leaves me open to the possibility of capture. All I know is that there's something special about you, something that will make the Familiars target you."

"And what about you?" Alec asked.

"I have other orders," Zack said.

"Like what?" Alec asked suspiciously. "Seems like you're hanging us out to dry."

"In a sense, I guess we are," Zack admitted, shocking Max with his bluntness. "Lydecker has something crazy planned… he hasn't told me yet what it is. He said that all kinds of personnel from this breeding cult have been directed to Seattle. So White and most of his people will target the two of you, and Set will try to keep the rest of them busy."

"Leaving their resources spread even thinner than usual somewhere else," Max surmised.

"That's my impression," Zack stated.

"So we're the diversion," Alec reasoned.

"You're the diversion because you're actually the goal," Zack said. "You said you want to go to war… well, this is it. The next few days will be the riskiest phase. The colonel and I will get information that we need while you keep them busy. Just don't get killed, Max, because without you, we'll probably lose anyway, whether my mission is a success or not."

__

To be continued……………………………


	4. The Spartan

James Cameron and Charles Eglee own Dark Angel. My use is in no way meant to challenge their copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned (or any other) copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons (either real or fictional) is unintended.

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IV – The Spartan 

            "This is the place?" Alec asked in an uncertain tone.  He'd cased many of the nicer buildings in Seattle, hoping to make a quick score to help fund his burgeoning drinking habit, but even he had never even considered trying to break into Preston Tower.  The security was second to none in the city, as the building's tenants had all dedicated a sizable chunk of the seven-figure apartment cost to keeping out 'undesirable elements.'

            "Yeah," Max muttered, wondering if Lydecker, or at least Zack, was playing some kind of prank.  She couldn't imagine either of them doing anything remotely resembling that, though, and so she silently decided that she and Alec _had_ to be at the right address.  She just would never have expected to find a Manticore escapee here.  She raised her head and took in the view – twenty-seven stories of polished steel and reflective glass, one of the finest, and last, buildings completed before the Pulse.  Having spent some time herself as a thief, she knew the drill – 24-hour security guard protection, seven-digit entry code at the front door and the elevators, motion sensors, heat sensors, and even optional bullet-resistant glass for windows.  In all, Preston Tower was a civilian fortress, designed and built to protect the highest concentration of wealth in the city.  Even Logan's old place just didn't compare.

            "You think Zack is pulling our leg or something?" Alec asked, echoing some of Max's own concerns.

            "It's not something I would have expected back in the day…"

            "… but getting shot in the head can have an amazing effect one's personality," Alec finished for her.

            "I guess we should just try to go in and see what happens," Max suggested half-heartedly, knowing the guards would probably turn them both right around.  The two of them approached the front door boldly, their years of military training preventing them from showing any of the uncertainty they were feeling.

            "Can I help you?" the doorman asked, focusing his gaze on Alec but keeping a safe amount of attention on Max.  _Yeah, the doorman,_ Max thought with amusement, noting the fact that the man was only partially concealing an MP-5 under his traditional red uniform.

            "We're here to see someone," Alec stated evenly, planting his feet at shoulder width and looking every bit the defrocked soldier he was.

            "Name?" the guard asked.

            "My name's Alec."

            "No, sir, the resident's name," the guard clarified, already seeming strangely bored by the conversation.

            "Set," Alec answered.  "His name's Set."

            "I thought so," the guard replied, a sudden, disconcerting smile spreading across his lips.  He looked to Max like a leopard grinning after devouring an impala in the treetops.  "If you'll follow me, please?"  He gestured for Max and Alec to fall in step behind him, and that's just what they did.  He punched in a seven-digit code (3-5-8-2-4-3-6, Max noted for future reference) and led them into the lobby and right up to the elevator doors.  One more code later (4-8-3-2-8-9-9) and the doors opened and the guard directed them inside the cab.  "Take this up to the twenty-first floor and make a right," he instructed.  "Set's the last door on the right – 21F."

            "Thanks," Max asked.

            "Yeah, thanks a lot," Alec said, taking a half step toward the man as he gave him a quick handshake – and a rolled-up twenty.

            "Wow, we even have you tipping the help nowadays," Max said sarcastically as the elevator doors closed.

            "It was part of the training," Alec replied absently, noticeably avoiding eye contact as he reflected back on his Manticore days.  "We were expected to blend in with the upper class when necessary, so our etiquette training covered everything from the waltz to proper technique for tipping the doorman."

            "Shame I skipped out early," Max grumbled.  "I so would have loved to practice the waltz with you."  A thin smile followed, lightening the mood by the time the elevator doors opened on the twenty-first floor.  They both turned right and walked to apartment F.

            "Would you care to do the honors?" Alec asked in a frighteningly pleasant tone that was just too far out of character for Max to let it pass.  Max shot him a questioning look, and only received a mime of how to go about knocking on a door.  _Okay, the sarcasm is more like him,_ she thought with relief, shaking off the feeling that after the tip of the doorman and the polite invitation to be the one to knock that something might have snapped in Alec's head.

            Max knocked, and a brief second later they both heard a male voice yell out for them to let themselves in.  Max led the way, her eyes gliding over the features of the room in a heartbeat, noting that while the outside of the building was plush and luxurious, the interior of the apartment was anything but.

            The front door opened onto a small stair that went down two steps into what Max guessed was meant to be some sort of greeting hall.  Instead was a makeshift gym, dumbbells lining the bare, whitewashed walls and large benches and machines dominating the center of the room.  Set was nowhere to be seen.

            "It's set up just like the East Gym," Alec whispered, having concluded his own analysis of the apartment.

            "The East Gym?" Max asked.

            "It was opened after you and your pals escaped," Alec explained.  "We needed some extra training facilities once the X-6's got old enough to start working out, so a series of new gyms was set up.  The East Gym was small – too small for a full squad to use comfortably – but training us wasn't really its purpose.  It was sort of reserved for the best recruits… getting in there was a status symbol, and working out in the East Gym meant that you were just a little better than the rest.  It was just another way to get us to compete with each other, to push ourselves and each other just that little bit more."

            "And you got to work out in it?"

            "Sometimes," Alec replied, but not usually.  "The privilege wasn't permanent, of course.  If you didn't keep pushing, someone else was always there to take your spot."

            "So you know the feeling of having your spot taken," Max surmised.

            "I'm not exactly the type to go 110% all the time," Alec replied with a sarcastic grin.  "People get burned out that way."

            "No, people get strong that way," a new voice shot back as a man – Max assumed it was Set – walked into the room.  Dressed in blue jeans and a black tanktop, with bare feet and wet, short-cropped hair, Max assumed he had just gotten out of the shower.  His hair was a light brown, and he had rather unimpressive brown eyes that seemed to look right through his guests.  He was very well built, even for an X-5, and seemed to carry himself with the type of confidence Max had only rarely seen outside of Manticore.

            "I know you," Alec said hesitantly.  "I remember seeing you in the East Gym sometimes.  Never saw you anywhere else, though."

            "I was in special training," the man replied.  "It kept me busy and alone."

            "And you're Set?" Max asked, hoping to at least get some kind of attention in this exchange.  She wasn't really capable of reminiscing about Manticore with the others.

            "I am now," the man answered.  "The outside world is full of people that feel a need for some kind of non-numerical designation.  So I use the name Set."

            "Okay, Set, do you know why we're here?" Max asked.  "I assume you expected us, since the guard downstairs knew you were going to have visitors."

            "Colonel Lydecker briefed me on the situation," Set replied.  "I'm to deploy immediately following this conversation and set about my mission."

            "And what exactly is your mission?" Alec asked.

            "That information is on a need to know basis only," Set replied.  "I've been instructed that neither of you need to know."

            "Ah, come on," Alec said.  "Just between you, us, and the lamppost."

            "My orders were clear," Set reiterated.  "I'm sorry you feel the need for more information, but there's nothing else I can say."

            "Well, what about your training back at Manticore?" Max asked, hoping she could get some clue as to Set's mission from his training.

            "I was Special Ops, Urban Disruption Division," he replied.  "You were one of the escapees, right?"

            "Yeah," Max answered.  "So what did Urban Disruption Division do, anyway?"

            "He was a Slinger," Alec interjected, as if that should have explained everything.  All Max could do was shrug her shoulders in confusion.  "Oh, I guess they started that program after you left," Alec continued.  "See, Slingers were supposedly the ultimate terrorists.  You know how we trained our assassins to show up at their target's home without weapons?" he asked.

            "Yeah, I remember," Max replied, knowing that many of Manticore's targets had outstanding security, and that to get close to them, one would have to go undercover.  That also meant, in virtually all instances, that the person could expect to be frisked by guards.  So Manticore required its trainees to scan their surroundings quickly and find makeshift weapons ranging from letter openers to teacups.

            "Well, Slingers use the same philosophy," Alec explained.  "They were dropped in, just one or two at a time, and then used the equipment they found inside the city to tear it apart.  You know, like going to the grocery store to buy some common chemicals that could be used to make explosives, and then taking your groceries down to a power relay station.  They'd assassinate numerous citizens, some of them valuable targets, and some of them just randomly selected normal people who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.  The unpredictability of it all helped paralyze the indigenous population that much more."

            "I can't believe they'd do that," Max said with a shudder, imagining how different she would have turned out had she ended up in that program.

            "It was efficient," Set responded.  "Using one or two soldiers to lower morale in an entire city was the perfect use for transgenics.  It gave our army an edge."

            "Whatever," Max muttered, knowing she would never win a debate with her newfound associate.  "Just tell me you don't plan to unleash chaos on Seattle."

            "No, ma'am," Set shot back formally.  "Like I said, the details of my operation are only need to know, but I can assure you that my efforts will be restricted to valid targets, and all efforts will be made to limit collateral damage.  The Colonel advised me that you would be concerned about that."

            "It's more than just that," Max replied immediately.  "The normal people out there are already afraid of us, coming up with all kinds of nightmarish visions of what we could do.  It would be stupid to go about bringing their nightmares to life, or even worse, showing them we can be even worse."

            "Understood," Set answered.  "My original training taught me to focus on morale; I'm well instructed in psychological warfare.  I understand the sensitivity of the situation all too well."

            "Good," Max and Alec both said in unison, resulting in each of them looking awkwardly at the other, bothered that they were on the same wavelength.

            "How can we get in touch with you?" Alec asked.  "You know, in case there's some kind of emergency or something."

            "Like what?" Set asked skeptically.

            "Like say we're barricaded in somewhere, surrounded by Familiars and we need someone to create a specific diversion to get us out," Alec hypothesized.  "It would be nice to have a way to reach you."

            "I'll be out of reach for the next thirty-six hours," Set said.  "But after that, I'll get in touch with you and tell you how you can reach me in case of an emergency.  Is that acceptable?"

            "Yeah," Max said.  "I guess we'll just lay low until you start setting off your fireworks."

            "Understood," Set answered.  "Until next time, then."

To be continued…………………………… 


	5. Under Siege

James Cameron and Charles Eglee own Dark Angel. My use is in no way meant to challenge their copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned (or any other) copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons (either real or fictional) is unintended.

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**Author's Note: The events of this chapter incorporate everything that has occurred up to the end of Season 2.  Simply proceed as though the events of this fic take place right after _Freak Nation's_ closing credits.  And thank you to everyone that's given such positive feedback on the story thus far.  I hope Logan's first appearance makes most of you happy…**

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V – Under Siege 

            _How should I act around here?_ Logan wondered for the umpteenth time as he gazed around at the motley collection of transgenics around him, some obvious products of genetic experimentation, and others appearing no different than any ordinary human.  He had spent years crusading for the downtrodden, the exploited, and the disenfranchised.  In his more self-serving moments he had imagined himself to be something akin to the Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr., a man that had devoted his life to fighting for his principles and serving his fellow man no matter the cost.  Never before had the analogy seemed so accurate, Logan decided, as he looked around that those that were hated and targeted because of outward differences.  And never before had he felt that he paled in comparison to Dr. King and others like him.  Logan knew the truth – for years he had hidden all but his eyes, afraid to personally lay himself on the line.  When he had jumped into Jam Pony, firing a gun like some super-human hero from a 1980's action flick, Logan had finally put himself out there for all the world to see, and now he knew in his heart that he was no Dr. King… no Gandhi… not even a Thomas Jefferson.  He was just a man who was in way over his head, fighting with every breath to stave off panic.

            _And maybe that's how Dr. King and those like him always felt,_ Logan mused silently, certain that other men in his situation had been afraid, that some part of them would always have wanted to get out, to save their own skins and leave 'The Struggle' to others.  But those other men had held their ground to represent a multitude of their people.  _The truth,_ Logan had to admit, _is that I'm here because of Max._  Sure, he cared about the equal treatment of transgenics.  He had reported on Manticore even when he had thought Max dead a year earlier, and it burned him up inside to see how his fellow man gave in so easily to hysteria.  He could see the modern equivalent of the Inquisition, the Salem witch trials, and even the HUAC Investigations.  He would have continued to lend Eyes Only's voice to the quest for justice and equality, but he would never have jumped in, body and soul, without Max's presence.  _I'm here because of a woman,_ he knew, _and I don't know that there's anything noble about that._

            "Whatcha thinkin'?" he heard Max ask as she strolled up behind him, her voice straining to sound pleasant while still holding back any of the intense affection Logan could see in Max's eyes every time he looked at her.

            "I'm trying not to," Logan muttered truthfully.  "I don't know that this gonna end well," he said evenly, turning to face the young woman that had come to mean so much to him, despite his best efforts to hold his feelings in check.

            "Neither do I," Max admitted in a low voice, her eyes darting from side, presumably to make certain no one had heard her.  "This is one hell of a roll of the dice."

            "Win or lose, though, I think you did the right thing here," Logan commented as he turned back away.

            "And you think that'll matter if we all die?" Max asked.

            "Of course," Logan replied immediately.  _She's the one that's been laying it on the line since Day 1,_ he thought, finally seeing Max in a new light.  The realization hit him like a thunderbolt, and he turned suddenly, boring his gaze into her eyes, searching for that burning flame of strength that he was certain would be there.  It didn't take long to see it.  She was focused on the goal, no matter how uncertain she may have sounded.   _Here's our Dr. King, here's our Gandhi – a beautiful teen runaway that would rather be out on the highway setting new speed records on her motorcycle.  I wonder if she knows the part she's playing…_

            "I don't know if I can keep this up," Max said wearily, though her inner look of resolve never faded in the least.  "It's so much to handle, Logan.  Everyone's looking to me for answers, you know?  'We need food, Max.  We need fuel, Max.  And weapons.  And clothing.  And blankets…  How long before you think they come in here, Max?  How much longer before we try to break through the barricade, Max?'  The questions never stop, Logan."

            "You're their leader," Logan said evenly, stating the obvious as if that would explain everything.

            "I never asked to be a leader," Max said defiantly, her voice starting to rise ever so slightly.  Logan's eyes searched the room, hoping that no one had heard her speak, praying that nobody would know that the leader had doubts.  He had never been a soldier, but he knew that everyone around him was… and that soldiers expected, even needed, their commanding officers to be all-knowing and all-powerful.

            "Keep your voice down," Logan hissed.  "You may never have asked for this, but it's here.  You have responsibilities now.  The decisions you make could cause people – your people – to either live or die."

            "Great, thanks for keeping the pressure off," Max muttered angrily.

            "Like it or not, that's the truth," Logan responded with a resigned shrug.  "I know you, Max.  I know you better than anyone else here, and I know that you would never have volunteered for this.  I know you would do anything now to get out of this if you could.  But I also know that you realize how much you're needed, and that there's no way in hell you'll turn your back on the others."

            "Thanks," Max said, her defiant tone vanishing as her grimly set visage melted into a thin smile.  "I really needed to hear that, Logan.  Especially from you.  You have no idea…"

            "I have an idea," Logan returned, moving forward slightly and grabbing Max in a tight embrace, making certain he turned his head to the side and didn't breathe any her sweet, exhaled breath.

            "This is all so much to take in," Max sighed into his shoulder.  "It's not just that we're surrounded by National Guard troops.  It's not just that if those troops left we'd probably get attacked immediately by an army of ordinaries.  It's-"

            "It's White," Logan interrupted.  "I know."

            "I don't even know what to make of this whole thing," Max admitted.  "You said that the symbols on me gave terrible prophecies… light and darkness, the end of the world.  You said it was Biblical."

            "Yeah," Logan admitted reluctantly, furious with himself for ever having used such a dramatic word.  Sure, the word fit, but it's not something Max should ever have heard.  If the runes spoke of the end of the world, they named Max as nothing less than a messianic figure.  Logan was certainly relieved that he had had the good sense never to use that word.  _Messianic,_ he thought silently, turning the word over and over in his mind.  He got the same sinking feeling in his gut every time he reflected on the word.  _Sure, Messiahs… Chosen Ones… they save their people.  They change the world.  But they also tend to die rather violently._

            "I don't even know how to begin to deal with everything on my plate," Max whispered.  "What do I do first?  Do I make certain all of our immediate needs are met?  Does that matter if the army comes in here tonight and wipes us all out?  Do I instead turn my attention to our defenses?  And if I do, what if this turns into a long siege and we get starved out because I waited too long to worry about the food shortage?  And most of all, Logan – and this is what scares the hell out of me most – what the hell is White up to out there?"

            "You can only do one thing at a time," Logan said.  "Choose something you know you can do well, and delegate the rest."

            "Delegate?" Max asked.  "I can't delegate.  Everyone looks to _me._  What if I delegate to someone that decides to storm the National Guard out there?  What if I actually empower somebody that then turns out to be a hothead?  The consequences would be on me.  It would all be my fault if something goes wrong."

            "I know," Logan said comfortingly.  _But if you don't spread the power around, and if something happens to you…_  He kept his concerns to himself, chasing away the thoughts of anything bad ever happening to Max.  He loved her, he had to admit that, but he also knew that he had to keep his emotions under wraps.  Max would undoubtedly see his feelings if they came to the surface; and if she saw them, they could distract her.  She was a leader now, beholden to all of her people.  She needed to keep a clear head, now more than ever.  While his body and soul ached for him to just pick her up and take her somewhere they could be alone, where he could comfort her, he knew that he was a part of her success or failure.  He had responsibilities just as she did.  One unfortunate misstep on his part could do almost as much harm as if Max herself had made a mistake.  "Do you trust me, Max?" Logan asked, pushing himself far enough away from her so that he could look into her eyes, wearing his most determined 'Eyes Only, Savior of the World' face.

            "Of course," Max said.

            "Then let me worry about getting the people comfortable," he suggested.  "I'll get Joshua to help me scavenge.  We can take care of that problem, at least."

            "Joshua?" Max asked uncertainly.  In the past week Joshua had grown increasingly confident and outgoing.  He was not, she had to admit, the same man he had been when they had escaped.  Indeed, he wasn't even the same man he had been when he'd met Annie.  He was something more…  _But what?_ Max asked herself, searching for the answer she knew was floating around inside her mind.  _He's my second,_ she realized with a sickening feeling in her gut.  She looked into Logan's eyes and saw he knew it, too.  _If something happens to me, my responsibilities will fall to Joshua.  He's an obvious transgenic, an outcast… the others will listen to him.  And he's so smart, and dependable, and strong…_  "You're right," Max concluded.  "You and Joshua get started finding food, blankets, and clothes.  I'll get Alec and start looking for fuel and ammunition."

            "Yes, ma'am," Logan replied with a thin smile.

            "And Logan," Max said as her friend turned to leave.

            "Yeah, Max?"

            "Thanks," she said with a relieved smile.

            "You don't need to thank me," he said.  _You just have to find a way to stay alive._

To be continued…………………………… 


	6. Marching Orders

James Cameron and Charles Eglee own Dark Angel. My use is in no way meant to challenge their copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned (or any other) copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons (either real or fictional) is unintended.

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VI – Marching Orders 

            Sitting alone in a corner, grateful for the few seconds of peace and quiet, Max cupped her face in her hands, rubbing her temples in an effort to ease the thumping in her head.  While she could go several days without sleep, she hadn't been forced to do so under such stressful conditions since she was a child at Manticore.  _So much to do and so little time, she thought glumly.  For five days now she had had no rest, moving from one task to the next without a word of complaint, hoping against hope that any oversights or shortcomings on her part might be overshadowed by the good example she was trying to set._

            She gazed around her, searching for one of the few faces that she knew would cheer her instantly.  Unfortunately, Cindy, Sketchy, Joshua, and Logan were nowhere to be seen.  Her eyes did settle on one person who was very familiar, though – Alec.  For the briefest moment she hoped that he hadn't seen her, but with a resigned sigh she prepared to deal with him again as he walked right toward her.

            "We've got the tripwires all finished," he reported in a whisper.  Max smiled in response.  True, Alec could be a pain in the ass, but he was exceedingly good at his job.  Manticore had certainly trained him well.

            "So anyone coming in is going to be slowed down big time," Max muttered.

            "Or they'll run the risk of setting off our alarms or getting blown to bits, depending on which tripwires they set off," Alec replied.  "Personally, I hope they trip the mines.  Less work for me that way."

            "And more bad press for us," Max shot back.  She had hated the idea of setting up mines inside the perimeter, but in the end she had been forced to face the facts – there were a couple hundred transgenics defending a twenty square block area against thousands of troops.  If the National Guard decided to storm the camp, there would be no way to hold them all off.  Even transgenics didn't stand a chance against 20-1 odds… especially when the 20 had tanks and helicopter gunships.

            "Look Max, we had to do -"

            "I know," Max interrupted.  "Doesn't mean I have to like it, though.  This sucks, Alec.  I thought we were supposed to have had some help by now.  Where's Zack?  Where's Lydecker?  Where's Set?  At least one of them should have checked in with us days ago."

            "I don't know any more than you do," Alec said with a sigh of his own as he leaned back against the wall and slowly slid down to the floor, taking a seat next to Max.  "For what it's worth, though, I think we've sealed this place up pretty well. No one's getting in here any time soon."

            "You think so?" a new voice asked, drawing startled looks from both Max and Alec.

            "Zack?" Max asked immediately, rubbing her eyes to make certain the lack of sleep wasn't causing her to hallucinate.

            "You expected someone else?" he asked with a grin.  His calm, friendly demeanor set Max ill at ease – Zack had never seemed so casually carefree in the old days.  _Of course, that was before he took a bullet to the head, Max reminded herself.  She simply had to learn to accept the fact that Zack would never again be quite the same.  Thankfully, the only real change seemed to be his demeanor; all of his combat skills seemed intact, and there was still that devil-may-care look dancing behind his eyes._

            "How'd you get in?" Alec asked.

            "Wasn't that hard, actually," Zack said as he slowly sat down on Max's other side.  "All of the National Guard guys are facing inward, so they never saw me sneaking up behind them.  It's sort of like a jail, I guess – easy to get in, hard as hell to get out.  The only really tough part about making my way in here was stepping around all the tripwires.  Whoever set those up was thorough."

            "Thanks," Alec said with self-congratulating smile.

            "And now what?" Max asked, wondering what Zack's arrival meant to the big picture.  She figured that at the very least, she had another soldier.

            "And where were you?" Alec added.  "We were starting to wonder if anyone else was ever gonna show up."

            "I was in Israel," Zack responded, answering Alec first.  "I had some scouting to do; I needed to set up for our operation there."

            "What operation?" Max asked.

            "Well, that's the answer to your question," Zack replied.  "Now you have to go to Israel, too."

            "Israel?" Max asked quizzically. "I'm not going to Israel."

            "You have to," Zack returned.  "That's the mission."

            "No, the mission is getting all of our people out of here in one piece," Max hissed, her voice rising above a whisper as she attempted to emphasize her point.  "I'm not going anywhere."

            "But you have to," Zack repeated lamely, seemingly unable to process the fact that Max had refused to obey orders.  His hesitance made her wonder just how much of his memory he had actually regained – she thought it strange that he had no recollection of just how rebellious she could be.

            "The only mission I'm interested is the one right here," Max said evenly.  "We're all corralled up in here because I made everyone stay.  There's no way I'm leaving now."

            "My orders are clear," Zack said, a hint of the old hard-ass soldier suddenly appearing on his face.  _There's the Zack I know, Max thought, disappointed that he picked a rather inconvenient time to return to his old ways.  __That's the Zack that kept showing up a year ago, telling me to leave Seattle.  Seems some things never change…  "We can come back as soon as our mission in Israel is done," Zack said, surprising Max with his effort at compromise._

            "No deal," Max said.  "Figure twelve hours to get to Israel, and twelve hours back.  We'll need time, I assume, to get into position once we get over there, too.  Time for pre-op briefing, time for the mission, time for extraction and maybe some medical treatment… I don't see how you can get me back in less than sixty hours."

            "The colonel and I are actually figuring more like seventy-two, minimum," Zack replied.  "I hope you know I never would have come here if it wasn't necessary.  Especially now, with things like this."

            "You don't know just how tense it is around here," Max said, suddenly lowering her voice and looking around nervously, scanning every shadow for a pair of ears that might want to listen in.  She knew she could never display uncertainty or weakness around anyone but her most trusted friends.  Right now, Zack and, strangely enough, Alec, were the only ones she would dare say any of this to.  "Some of the people are starting to push for an assault – they'd prefer to die fighting on their own terms rather than wait for the army to come in and wipe us out at its own leisure."

            "Understandable," Zack admitted.

            "And the only thing keeping everybody in check is me," Max said, noting with irritation the fact that she was clearly unable to hide her discomfort at her own position.  "I'm afraid of what some of our people might do if I'm gone."

            "And we also have to keep the ordinaries in mind," Alec pointed out.  "They were dealing with Max back at Jam Pony… to many of them she's the voice of our people.  I doubt they'd listen to anyone else.  Max has to stay, Zack, there's no other way.  I'll go with you, though, if you have a way out of here."

            "I appreciate the offer, Alec, but it has to be Max," Zack said.  "We're going out there to take down White… to take down all of his people.  Lydecker said the Familiars have moved up the date of The Coming, whatever that means.  We have to take them out before their plan gets put into motion.  And if we fail, if everything goes wrong that can go wrong, he says we _need Max to be there.  Apparently she's the last thing we have to fall back on."_

            "What the hell does that mean?" Max asked, uncomfortable with hearing Zack talk about her like she's their last hope.

            "Like I said last time, Lydecker doesn't tell me everything," Zack reminded his sister.  "If the Familiars got their hands on me, they could question me and find out everything we know.  For obvious reasons we can't let that happen."

            "So now what?" Alec asked, looking from Max to Zack.

            "Lydecker said The Coming is bad, Max," Zack said.  "We're talking 'End of the World' bad.  If it isn't stopped, he said the death toll could easily reach into the billions.  You know what that means, Max… don't make me say it."

            _Yeah, I know what that means, Max thought angrily.  __It means I have to choose whether I want to stay here and help ensure the lives of a couple hundred transgenics, or whether I want to go out there and hopefully save the lives of billions of ordinaries who would just as soon shoot me as anything else.  She wanted to stand up and scream, to literally start tearing the room apart with her bare hands in order to vent her frustration.  Fate had given her a choice, but she knew it was really no choice at all.  She looked around miserably, hoping against hope that everything would be the same when she and Zack got back.  "When do we go?"_

            "We leave here within the hour," Zack replied.  "Set's getting into position right now.  He'll provide us with a diversion and an exit.  If we get separated, we'll rendezvous at his apartment in two hours.  From there we'll get a lift in a helicopter.  Understood?"

            "You're _leaving?" Alec asked Max, disbelief plain in his eyes.  "You just said you can't do that.  You know what's at stake."_

            "That's already been covered," Zack said, a confident smile crossing his face.  "I would have told you before, but Lydecker wanted Max to make the decision herself before she knew about the one last ace he held up his sleeve."

            "What ace?" Max asked.

            "Me," Max heard another familiar voice respond.  She looked across the room to see herself step out of a shadow.

            "4-5-3?  Sam?" Max muttered in disbelief.  "What are you doing here?"

            "Call me Ashley, now," 453 answered.  "At least that's my name this week… always trying to stay at least one step ahead of anyone that might be looking for me.  Zack contacted me a week ago and told me that I might be needed, but that he wouldn't contact me again unless he had to.  He told me what's at stake here."

            "What's at stake?" Alec asked.  "What is it that you people aren't telling me?"

            "I'm here because of my family," Ashley responded.  "The plan is simple enough."

            "What plan?" Alec asked.

            "You're gonna be high profile, aren't you?" Max asked.

            "Yeah," Ashley answered.  "I'll start making contact with the troops outside every eight hours, making sure they get to see that I'm in here."

            "So that the Familiars still think _I'm in here," Max surmised._

            "And as long as they believe you're here, they'll be confident that there's nothing that can stop them," Zack said.  "Which reminds me," he added, pulling a small brown bag from his pocket, "I need a blood sample, Max."

            "Why?"

            "I wasn't told," Zack responded.  "I only know that I'm supposed to deliver a vial of blood to an old contact from Lydecker's Manticore days.  He says he needs some kind of antigen, whatever that means."

            "I can take a good guess," Max replied.  "Fine, go ahead."  She hardly noticed the pinch of the needle entering her skin.  Instead, she remained focused on turning plans and schemes over and over again in her mind.  True, Lydecker's plan seemed solid enough, but there was still so much that could go wrong.  The most obvious was that they were running the chance that someone would discover that Ashley wasn't Max.  She needed a way to decrease the chance of that happening.

            "Am I in on this?" Alec asked, interrupting Max's train of thought.

            "You wanna be?" Zack responded.  "I don't know what kind of resistance we're gonna run into… we could probably use everyone we can get.  Though at the same time, remember that we're gonna have to slip past that perimeter without being seen.  That's tough enough for one or two people, and damn near impossible for more than four or five."

            "Then count me in," Alec muttered.

            "Me too," Logan's voice suddenly chimed in, drawing surprised stares from everyone.

            "What the-" Alec whispered.  "How'd you sneak up on us?"

            "Took off the exoskeleton," Logan said with a smile.  "I find I move a lot more quietly that way."

            "Quiet enough to get past that perimeter?" Max asked with a smile.

            "Not a good idea," Zack said immediately.

            "I need him there, Zack," Max retorted.  "He's come this far with all of us… I think he deserves to be there."

            "Fine," Zack said, though his tone indicated he felt Logan's presence was anything but fine.  Max could only smile, satisfied that everyone finally seemed to be realizing that there was really no sense in wasting time trying to talk her out of something she had decided to do.

            "We need to tell Joshua," Max said quickly.  "He's the only other one that ever gets close enough to me to know that Ashley isn't me.  If we tell him, and he seems to remain confident that I'm still here, then the others will believe him."

            "And you've already seemed to be making Joshua your second-in-command," Alec pointed out.  "If anything goes wrong, at least he'll be able to do something to try to fix it."

            "Yeah, that's the idea," Max replied hurriedly.  "So when are we supposed to be leaving?" Max asked Zack.

            "We have forty-three minutes," Zack said with a casual glance at his watch.

            "Perfect," Max said with a nervous smile.  "That should be just enough time to let Joshua know what we're up to, let Ashley make a speech to the others, and also allow us to get our stuff together."

            "You'll be cutting it close," Zack commented.

            "Trust me for a change, big brother," Max said with an eerily pleasant tone, pleased with the uncertain expression she evoked on Zack's face.  "After all, what's the worst that could possibly happen?"

To be continued…………………………… 


	7. Out of the Frying Pan

James Cameron and Charles Eglee own Dark Angel. My use is in no way meant to challenge their copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned (or any other) copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons, either real or fictional, is unintended.

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**Author's Note: So it seems some people… not that I'm mentioning names, but this would be ****True Blue Healer :) … seem to want to know what pairing this story is gonna be.  Is it M/L, M/A, or even M/Z?  *sigh*  I can understand the curiosity, and let me tell you I'm certainly appreciative that anyone has taken enough of an interest in this story to even ask, so please bear with me in this rambling A/N to explain the method behind my madness.  This story is fairly heavily plot driven (meaning that the plot drives the characters' actions, and not vice versa), so that means character pairings are not my main concern here.  Each individual character is important, and that means each comes to the table with his/her own emotional baggage.  I'm not gonna write Max and Logan without keeping their issues in mind, but neither am I gonna focus on them finding a cure for the virus when there are far more pressing issues for them to deal with.  The same thing goes for every character – I plan on being as true to each and every one as I can, and if that means a pairing could/should develop, then I'll do it if it seems right.  If not, I won't.  So, in short, I didn't plan this story with any pairings in mind – I have a plot, and now with every chapter I write I see how the characters react.  And as for those reactions, I can't tell you what'll happen beyond Chapter 9, because thus far that's all I've seen (that is, written) up to, myself.  Hope that answers people's questions.  If not, feel free to email me (at obinorm@netscape.net ) with questions/suggestions… I'm always happy to discuss my stories with fans and critics alike.**

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VII – Out of the Frying Pan 

            "What if this doesn't work?" Ashley asked nervously in the old storeroom as she gathered herself to speak to the besieged transgenics.

            "It'll work," Max assured her.  _It has to work, she added silently.  Max had experienced more than most people her age ever had, and she had made more than her share of reckless decisions.  Nothing even compared to this, though.  She was about to not only partake in, but also help orchestrate, a deception against her own people, transgenics that were inexperienced in the world and looked to her for guidance.  __Like I'm anyone to follow, she thought sadly.  To the escapees from Manticore, however, she was the end-all, be-all of transgenic existence._

            It all made a strange sort of sense, though.  Max and her original group of escapees had been out in the world longer than any of the others, all of whom had spent a majority, if not the entirety, of their lives behind the walls of Manticore's Gillette facility.  She and the survivors of that original escape were the logical bridge between the transgenics and the outside world – they were the only people to experience several years of their lives in both environments.  That realization had initially caused Max some concern, as she had thought only she and Zack were present from the original group.  Then, like a divine angel that had been sent from on high at precisely the perfect moment, Syl had appeared inside the perimeter, only twenty minutes behind Zack.  She was an absolute godsend.

            She had immediately sought out Max, and was overjoyed to the point of tears when she saw Zack standing there, alive and well.  Three minutes was all it took to convince Syl to stay behind to advise Ashley and Joshua, to help them stall for time until Max and the others could get back.  _Syl was always brilliantly analytical, Max remembered.  It took her three minutes to say 'yes,' but she had probably made up her mind long before that._

            "You got me and Joshua here to help you out whenever and however you need it," Syl assured Ashley.  "All we have to do is stick to the plan.  We do this, and Max takes out White.  Our people are safe, and the one threat to your family is removed for good."  _Clever, Max noted approvingly as Syl spoke.  __Reassuring her at the same time she reminds her what her stake is in this whole thing.  No greater motivator than enlightened self-interest… yeah, Ashley'll do just fine._

            "I'm right behind ya little fella," Joshua assured Max's stand-in.

            "What?" Ashley asked.

            "Little fella," Joshua repeated.  "It's what I call Max.  She calls me big fella."

            "Better make a note of that," Max put in.  "It's the kind of thing the others will notice."

            "Right," Ashley said absently, seeming to process that tidbit with all the other information she had gained about Max, all the endless minutiae that she needed to remember to successfully pull off this ruse.

            "It's time," Zack said, looking quickly at his watch.

            "Shouldn't we wait another minute or two to make sure everyone is here?" Ashley asked.  "We should make sure that _everyone buys this."_

            "We don't have time," Zack replied earnestly.  "Ten minutes, forty seconds and counting.  Set's gonna be causing a diversion, and we'll only have a window of a few seconds."

            "Okay then," Ashley said with a sigh.  "Here goes nothing."  She opened the door and walked out, Joshua, Logan, Alec, and Syl in tow.  A few old crates had been thrown together into a makeshift dais, allowing Ashley to see everyone, and more importantly, everyone to see her.  From where Max was spying through a peephole in the storeroom door, it seemed most everyone had come to hear what Max had to say.  Now she listened with as much rapt attention as everyone else.

            "Thanks guys," Ashley began.  "I know some of you were probably wary about getting together in one place like this… presents a bit of a target and all… so I'll be brief.  We stayed behind to make a statement, to hold the line and either find a place for ourselves or die trying.  For five days now we've been under siege, fighting against exhaustion, paranoia, and sometimes even each other.  I don't expect everyone to get along; after all, this is life, not a sitcom.  But I need everyone to at least be civil.  I need everyone to realize that your life may depend on the person standing next you.  We're soldiers, after all… let's not forget it.  And as we're soldiers, we need a plan."

            "We're gonna attack?" Mole asked, predictably being the first one to advocate violence.

            "No," Ashley replied.  "We're the best soldiers in the world, no doubt, but if we attacked that perimeter most of us would die.  And doing something like that would only justify the suspicion and paranoia of everyone in the world.  Some of us might get away safely, but they'd be killed as soon as they were ever found."

            "Just like Biggs was," Alec interrupted, drawing nods of agreement from everyone that knew the dead X-5.

            "And maybe I'd be able to blend in and disappear like last time," Ashley continued.  "Maybe Alec could, too, and Syl here," she added, gesturing to the newly arrived X-5, making certain she got the big public introduction that the plan called for.  "But that would be selfish of me.  We can't all hide, right?  Joshua can't.  Mole can't.  Dix can't.  Hell, only a minority of us would ever even have a chance of blending in.  I'm not deserting any of you."

            "So then what's the plan?" Mole asked.

            "Two parts," Ashley stated evenly.  "First, we have to buy time.  We have to start talking with them out there, get some kind of dialogue going.  There are plenty of people out there that want to avoid a confrontation.  Some actually believe that we deserve some kind of equal treatment, or at least peace… but I guess most just figure we'd be too good at killing to justify some kind of an assault.  Either way, we have that working for us.  The longer we give them hope of a peaceful outcome, the longer we stay at the bargaining table, the longer we have to actually get our message out."

            "We can't get our message out," one of the X-6's complained.  They're jamming transmissions in here, and they've cut the phone lines."

            "Right, they have," Ashley agreed.  "That's why someone's got to get past the perimeter.  Someone's got to leave and spread the word that we're not a rabid pack of bogeymen.  We're just like them, just… different."

            _Oh, that was great, Max thought with concern.  __We're the same, only different?  I better remember to suggest they find a better slogan before they start the negotiations._

            "Logan is gonna go back out there," Ashley said.  "Alec's gonna get him past the perimeter, and he'll set up his old program.  Eyes Only has been a voice of truth and justice for years now… people will listen to him."

            "Not everyone will," Mole countered.  "Most will still want to kill us."

            "This is a touchy time politically," Ashley countered.  "The government is finally starting to reassert itself, and the last thing it needs is a massacre on its hands.  There'll be enough politicians that want to avoid bloodshed, but they need a basis for doing so.  Just like they can't have a massacre, they can't appear weak.  If some of the citizens start calling for a peaceful resolution, we have a chance.  I hate to say it, but you guys are all geniuses, so you probably already know – this very well may be our _only chance.  If it comes to combat, well… we may never lose a battle, but there's no way in hell we can win the war."_

            "Then we better not screw this up," someone yelled from the back.

            "That's right, we'd better not," Ashley agreed.  "We'll need to double the guard on the perimeter, but every single one of you has to make certain you do absolutely nothing to provoke aggression.  You don't fire a single shot… you don't even look at the ordinaries if you can avoid it.  Don't even fire if fired upon unless they actually start crossing the perimeter themselves.  You all know as well as I do that whether we start it or not, if anyone dies out there, we're gonna take the blame.

            "You all know Joshua, and Syl is an old friend that just showed up to help me out.  I'm gonna be spending most of my time trying to figure out things to say to the army's representatives out there, so if you have suggestions for me, give them to Syl and she'll pass them on.  If you need problems solved, go directly to Joshua, he'll help you out."  _Okay, here comes the really dangerous part, Max thought worriedly.  "If you think you find any weaknesses in our defenses, well… report them to Mole."  Ashley then turned to face Mole directly, and Max noted that her clone did a wonderful job of looking sincere as she spoke.  "Sorry I didn't ask before I volunteered you, Mole.  You just seemed like the right man for the job.  If you don't want it-"_

            "No, I do," Mole said immediately.

            "You know what the stakes are out there," Ashley said calmly, though she lent a brilliant undercurrent of earnest anxiety to her tone that seemed to play Mole's ego and intellect like a violin.

            "I know," Mole assured her.  "I won't screw up."  He then turned and glared from one transgenic to another.  "And I guarantee no one else is gonna screw up, either."

            _Perfect, Max thought with a sigh.  Mole was the most likely one to mutiny, and empowering him, giving him important responsibilities, would go a long way toward keeping him satisfied and quiet for at least a few days.  Max just hoped that was all she'd need._

            "Then everyone get started with their jobs," Ashley instructed.  "We have lots to do, and not a whole hell of a lot of time to do it."

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            "5… 4… 3… 2… 1," Zack counted off to the ticking seconds on his watch.  As soon as he was done, a bright explosion lit up the sky inside the perimeter a hundred yards behind Max and her group.  As planned, none of the transgenics were in the area, and none opened fire on the National Guard, thinking they were under attack.  The plan was simple – divert the attention of those on the outside but make certain that there were no casualties on either side.

            _Mission accomplished, Max thought with a grin.  She, Alec, and Zack were off like a shot, dashing toward the perimeter on the opposite side of the explosion with Logan not far behind.  Zack led the way, taking a running jump at the barbed wire fence the army had constructed, not even breaking stride as he cleared the ten-foot high obstacle with a few inches to spare.  Alec was right behind, and within seconds the two had disabled the three sentries in the area, leaving them all unconscious but otherwise unharmed.  With the way open, Max slowed and made certain Logan got over the fence safely, and then finally went over, herself._

            The next two minutes saw them alternately making mad dashes between shadows and standing as still as statues, fighting silently for every foot of territory they put behind them.  Time seemed to drag forever for Max as she struggled with her conscience, a voice in the back of her head screaming at her to turn around and take responsibility for her people.  She was past the point of no return, though, and knew it.  She needed to stifle her doubts, keep them bottled up until she came back to deal with this situation.  _Just keep focused, she told herself over and over.  __Keep your head in the game, Max.  This will all work out in the end… just as long as you don't screw up._

To be continued…………………………… 


	8. A Call to Arms

James Cameron and Charles Eglee own Dark Angel. My use is in no way meant to challenge their copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned or any other copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons, either real or fictional, is unintended.

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**Author's Note:** Sorry about the length of this chapter… I usually hate posting something this short, but the next chapter is rather long, so combining the two wasn't really an option. I guess I could have omitted this chapter, but it seemed right to let the characters get some down time and hang out for just a bit between crises. Hope you agree with me on that. Oh, and as for the next chapter, it'll probably be a bit more. Had to call in my trusty beta reader for that one…

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VIII – A Call To Arms

"Make yourselves at home," Set told everyone as he led his way into his expansive apartment. "We'll be leaving in an hour and forty minutes, so you should have time for a snack, nap, shower, or whatever else."

"I guess I could catch The Late Show," Alec commented.

"Not here you can't," Set responded absently. "No TV."

"No TV?" Alec asked quizzically, an amusing look of confusion and mild panic on his face. "You're kidding, right?" Set simply turned to his fellow X-5 with a blank expression, as if the concept of humor was something completely unfamiliar, and Max was forced to stifle a chuckle. "How do you kill time around here, then?" Alec complained.

"I train," Set replied. "What else do you think I'd do?"

_Creepy,_ Max thought as she watched Set's reaction. _Sure, Zack said he was gung-ho and all, but that guy's really gotta get out or something…_ As Max began to walk through the apartment, she only became more convinced of her conclusion. To the left of the gym, she walked down a short hallway with completely bare, white walls, coming first to an open door on her right. The room was completely devoid of furniture, with straw mats on the floor and a series of weapons racks set upon each of the walls. Directly across from her were assorted ancient hand-held weapons, dominated by an iron-tipped Macedonian sarissa – at least four meters long – hanging diagonally from the upper left hand corner to the lower right hand corner, with an Egyptian khopesh, a Roman gladius, spatha, and pilum, and a Greek hoplite sword displayed around it. The wall on her right held medieval-period weapons – a Scottish claymore, an English broadsword, a Chinese jiang sword, a German zweihander, a French flamberge, and a paired Japanese katana and wakizashi. Finally, on her left, she saw a wide variety of assorted weapons including a morningstar, a heavy English knight's mace hung inside the curve of a Welsh longbow, a pair of sai, a cat-o-nine tails, a Saracen scimitar, and a Chinese crossbow. _Well, if he spends all of his free time training, I'll bet he's mastered every one of these by now,_ Max concluded, grateful that Set was on her side.

Leaving the arsenal behind, she walked down the hallway and glanced in the next open door on her left. This was a small library, with one unobtrusive table and a chair, and shelves lining the walls. Max walked up next to Logan and joined him in scanning the titles. Philosophical tomes by Nitzsche and Sun-tzu stood side by side with chemistry textbooks, books on human anatomy and physiology, military history, and even instruction manuals on explosives. "Quite the Renaissance man," Logan commented with a nervous roll of his eyes.

"Yeah, but it all seems a little academic, don't ya think?" she asked sarcastically. "I don't know if I can trust a guy who never reads any fiction?" she added with a smile.

"Well, there's some of that, too," Logan replied, pulling out two books and showing them to Max.

"Oh, that figures," Max muttered as she saw the titles – _Paradise Lost_ and _The Count of Monte Cristo_. "Boy's _really_ gotta get out. If he stumbles upon some Dickens, being as wound up as he is, he's likely to go postal." Going back into the hall she looked left and saw a bathroom at the end of the hallway, then turned around, walking back out through the gym and down an opposite corridor. The first door was once again on her right, and she caught the all-too-familiar scent of microwaved burritos as she poked her head into a surprisingly large and well-furnished kitchen.

"Hungry?" Alec asked her as he dug into a bag of cheese curls with his left hand and pulled a bottle of beer from the fridge with his right. "This place is great, isn't it?" he asked with a smile.

"It's real cozy," Max replied.

"Do I smell food?" Logan asked as he walked in and joined the conversation.

"Sort of, I guess," Alec answered. "Microwaved burritos."

"Good enough," Logan said, opening the freezer and pulling out two burritos of his own.

"Once you're all done eating, we're gonna get some weapons together," Zack stated as he joined the rest. "Set's bedroom is just down the hall, and most of his firearms are spread out on a table. Take something light. We're leaving in a helicopter from here and going straight to the airport. From there we're gonna spend most of our time on a cargo plane, and when we reach our destination we'll be able to re-equip with heavier weapons, okay?"

"Sure thing," Alec responded, his head whirling toward the microwave when a loud beeping signaled that his pseudo-meal was ready.

"And Logan," Zack added, "the plane is set up with all the computer equipment you'll need to make an Eyes Only broadcast or two."

"Great," Logan said. "I hope White and his pals try to track a signal coming from a mobile transmitter… that'll be a great way to have them waste their time."

"We're also going to need you to hack into a couple of military satellites," Zack added. "I think Lydecker's planning to run this op sorta like the Manticore assault, with you keeping an eye on things from a command post while the rest of us actually do the fighting."

"I thought I'd be going in with you," Logan said immediately.

"So did I," Max joined in, a part of her actually grateful that Logan would likely be out of harm's way. She knew he had dodged a major bullet when he had survived the fight with White's team of Familiar bad-asses, and to do so again would take luck of epic proportions. Still, though, she also wanted him there at her side. She knew that he was tactically unfit for this mission, but just being there as moral support would be more than enough in Max's mind. _But that isn't safe,_ she reminded herself, chasing away any thought of putting Logan into the line of fire. _Besides, _she reminded herself, _somebody's gonna have to hack into a satellite and give us a heads-up if we meet any major resistance. Who else would you trust with that kind of a responsibility?_ Finally done rationalizing, Max focused her attention on getting something to eat. It had been days since she had had so much as a catnap, and she had to get energy from somewhere. As questionable an energy source as they were, she still pulled out several burritos for herself and stood in line behind Logan, avoiding dwelling on the unpleasant thought that if the mission got fubar'd, this could very well be her last meal.

To be continued……………………………


	9. The Promised Land

James Cameron and Charles Eglee own Dark Angel. My use is in no way meant to challenge their copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned (or any other) copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons, either real or fictional, is unintended.

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**Author's First Note: First, on the off chance that there are any biblical scholars reading this fic, I would like to take a moment to apologize for a few liberties I've taken herein.  For those of you that aren't biblical scholars… well, I'm betting you'll never notice what I've done.  Also, hope all y'all don't mind long chapters, since this is probably the longest one of the story.**

**Author's Second Note:** I absolutely need to thank **Brynn McK (a.k.a. the Goddess of Beta Reading) for going over this chapter (**TWICE!**) and giving pointers where necessary.  This chapter would never have been as good as I (most modestly) think it is without her valued input.  And thanks once again to everyone that's been taking the time to review – it really helps motivate me to keep plugging away at this story.**

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IX – The Promised Land 

            As Max stepped off the helicopter, shrugging off the blast of sand and searing-hot desert air, her one thought was that she was glad she'd remembered her sunglasses.  The sun was incredibly bright, and she could imagine the headache she would get it if the glare assaulted her genetically enhanced eyes for any extended duration.

_So this is Israel, she thought, surprised with how little she was impressed with the devastation around her.  She had expected the destruction to be on a grander scale, as would befit a nuclear war.  Instead, all she saw were a few scatted ruins of buildings and tons and tons of rubble that was quickly blending in with the surrounding desert._

            Haifa had once been a thriving port city, but back in the War of '13 Israel had been pushed to the brink of oblivion.  With the United States still reeling from the Pulse, and defeat all but certain, Israel had done what had previously been the unthinkable – it deployed nuclear weapons in a strategic, wartime strike.  Baghdad, Tehran, Damascus, Beirut, Amman, Riyadh, and Mecca were all hit, millions wiped out in the blink of an eye and the cities reduced to ash.  Most had reasonably assumed that Israel's Arab foes had also possessed nukes, but no one expected them also to have such accurate guidance systems and advanced rocket technology.  By the end of the day, the Israeli cities of Tel Aviv, Haifa, Gaza, and Nablus had also been annihilated, and the War of '13 had come to an abrupt close.

            _I guess that's what happens when two groups that hate each other finally get down to the business of destroying one another, Max mused, trying not to dwell on the possible parallels with her own people's situation._

            "We better get moving fast," Zack warned as the helicopter blades finally slowed enough for them all to hear each other.  "There's still quite a bit of radiation in the area, and while the transgenics among us might be fine for a few hours, we also have Logan to think about."

            "Thanks," Logan muttered as he gazed around, his wide-eyed expression betraying the fact that he was far more awed by the post-apocalyptic panorama than Max was.

            "So where to?" Alec asked.

            "We head inland a bit," Zack answered.  "Our contact should meet us once we get out of the old port quarter."  The group walked quickly, and disregarding the extensive military training of her childhood, Max began to let her mind wander.  The helicopter ride from Cairo had actually helped settle her nerves a great deal – for some reason she had always been relaxed inside choppers – but now that she was in the field, her anxiety was growing once more.  They came around the remains of an old wall, and Max shuddered as her gaze settled on several dark silhouettes on the sun-bleached stone.  She knew what she was looking at – the shadows of people that had been vaporized in the nuclear blast, their outlines scorched into the rock by a light that measured in the tens of thousands of degrees.  _I wonder what it was like, Max pondered.  It wasn't really the thought of death that preoccupied her – after the Gillette assault she had come close enough to dying not to be overly curious or afraid of it any longer – it was the idea of simply being erased from the universe in a fraction of a second.  She wondered if the people standing in front of this wall when the bomb detonated had felt their lives slip away as Max had when she had been in the Manticore ER, her obliterated heart allowing her life to fade slowly… so painfully, excruciatingly slowly._

            "There he is," Zack muttered, pointing ahead.  Max couldn't help but smile when she saw a face so much like hers, but yet so different.

            "Krit," she called out when they were within a dozen yards.  "Good to see you again."

            "You, too," he replied with a grin of his own.  "How's it going, Logan," he added, shaking hands with the group's only ordinary.

            "Been great," Logan said evenly, his eerily calm demeanor striking Max as strange.  _It's almost like he belongs out here with us, like it's completely natural for him._

            "I notice your legs seem fine," Krit commented.

            "Helps to have lots of transgenic friends," Logan responded, the shadow of a smile flitting across his face for the briefest of moments.  "Where's Lydecker?"

            "He's holed up in an old underground Mossad training facility at the edge of the city," Krit explained.  "The place was abandoned after the surrounding area was made a wasteland.  Hardly anyone ever comes out here anymore."

            "Perfect," Set grunted, Max almost jumping as he spoke.  That was the first word he had said since they'd left Seattle.

            "If you please follow me, your chariot awaits," Krit said as he pointed out a large tarp that barely concealed the outline of a Humvee.

            "So is Lydecker finally gonna tell us what's going on?" Logan asked.

            "It's my understanding that he's going to tell you everything he knows," Krit responded.  "Everything he knows, and everything he suspects.  I just hope you guys don't scare too easily."

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            The room Max soon found herself in was the epitome of utilitarian.  Brightly lit but with cold, gray, windowless walls, she noted that the claustrophobic feel of her surroundings constantly reminded her that she was a hundred feet below ground.  There was nothing that could be termed as decorative, but of course, that would have been out of place in an old Mossad bunker.  Other than the sturdy chairs on which they sat and the thin rows of tables that held their briefing materials, the only items to break the sterile chill of the room were a set of monitors on the front wall.  One of them, Max noted, displayed a rather detailed satellite map of the surrounding area.

            "So Deck, what's the op?" Max asked gregariously as Colonel Donald Lydecker finally joined his visitors in the old briefing room.  He seemed to strut as he took his place before them, and Max could tell that the colonel was nothing less than elated to be with 'his kids' again.

            "Today we're doing no less than saving the world," Lydecker replied gruffly, looking over all of his old proteges.  Max initially needed to stifle an amused smile at Lydecker's melodrama, but then she saw a look of intensity in Lydecker's eyes unlike anything she had ever seen there before.  _Oh my God, he's serious, she realized, all of a sudden looking around her to see if anyone else realized the gravity of the situation.  She immediately locked eyes with Alec and saw that he was obviously as distraught as she was.  __He knows, too, she realized.  No one else had broken his gaze from the colonel, though._

            "You all know about White and his kind," Lydecker stated.  "You've probably all figured out by now that they plan to take over the world someday.  Same old dream that's been batted around for millennia… except I think they can actually do it.  They've come up with a way to drive ordinaries… people like you and me, Logan," he said with an inappropriately amused smile, "into extinction.  They're not waiting for evolution to take its course; they're not giving the universe the opportunity to make its own natural selection as to which species – theirs or ours – gets to continue on.

            "Max, I believe you've already been exposed to the pathogen that's carried in those snakes of theirs, right?" he asked.  For the briefest of moments, Max locked eyes with her old mentor and felt a chill wash over her, seeing something in the colonel's blank stare that reminded her of the snakes that the Familiars had apparently built their dreams around.

            "Right," Max replied with a casual shrug of her shoulders.  "Wasn't any real biggie, though.  Didn't even get sick or anything, though I think that freaked them out a bit."

            "And with good reason," Lydecker replied.  He paused and took a deep breath, and although he seemed to be mentally going over what he was about to say, making certain his words would have the desired psychological and emotional effect, Max knew from experience that Lydecker's behavior was all for show.  She was certain he would never have come into the room without having every single word of his presentation completely planned out; he was too much of a control freak to have done otherwise.  _No, this little dramatic pause of his is all part of his planned presentation.  "The pathogen in those snakes is their way to take over the world, to make the rest of humanity extinct," the colonel finally continued in an unsettling, matter-of-fact tone.  "It's a naturally produced plague that could wipe out the Earth's population."_

            "I thought it was some kind of venom," Max interrupted.

            "It shares some properties with venom," Lydecker explained, "in that it causes the immediate destruction of cells and starts to break down the nervous system.  It's a toxic bacteria, though, actually fairly similar to the bacteria that's found in a Komodo Dragon's saliva, though it's far more virulent.  Komodo Dragon bites are usually fatal, but it's not because of venom – it's the infection that quickly results.  This snake that they've been selectively breeding is the exact same way, and every generation of this snake is stronger than the last."

            "Meaning each generation can withstand a stronger bacteria than the one before it," Alec surmised.

            "Exactly," Lydecker stated.  "We've done some tests with transgenic blood and some of the virus that we obtained from a captured snake.  In every sample, the transgenic, had he actually been exposed to the bacteria, would have survived."

            "So we're immune," Max stated, finally getting confirmation on something she had already suspected.  _At least that much is good news._

            "I prefer to use the word 'resistant' rather than immune," Lydecker countered.  "We already ran a blood test on that sample you gave us, though, Max, and your blood is unlike any of the others."  Lydecker's brow arched just the slightest bit, betraying the fact that he had been surprised by this development.

            "Different how?" Max asked nervously, already having some suspicions but fearing to know the truth.

            "Different in that while all transgenics seem to possess some type of antibody that can eventually defeat the infection, you seem to have some kind of genetically engineered antigen that's specifically designed to seek out and destroy this pathogen," Lydecker replied, shifting his gaze away from Max and focusing, in turn, on each of her siblings.  It was almost as if he was more interested in their reactions to Max's immunity than he was in Max's own response, though Max couldn't imagine why.  "Let me put it this way – the cult's pathogen is a bacteria, which means it's a living organism.  The antigen in your blood is hundreds of times more lethal to this bacteria than the bacteria is to an ordinary.  In effect, your body naturally produces an organism that can wipe out the Familiars' plague."

            "No wonder they want to get their hands on you so badly," Alec muttered to Max.  Max was unable to respond, though, as her head was spinning out of control as she pondered the ins and outs of a race to the top of the microscopic food chain.  She had read books, both fiction and non-fiction, that had warned of the dangers of a micro-bio-genetic arms race, but in all of her imaginings she had never thought that she would be a central figure in such a scenario.  In her life she had seen many truly terrible things, and faced off against numerous foes.  She had never really been rattled to the core the way she was now, though.  _Why is that? she wondered silently, trying to figure out why she felt so spooked.  __Is it just that you seem to be playing the central role in opposing the apocalypse? she asked herself sarcastically.  __Is that just a little too messianic for ya, Maxie?_

            "You said it seeks out and destroys the pathogen?" Logan asked.

            "That's right," Lydecker confirmed.  "We took a beaker of the snake's blood and dropped in a drop of Max's blood.  Within minutes… even faster than the projected dispersion rate, every one of the pathogen bacteria was completely destroyed.  The antigen seems designed so that just drawing blood from Max and injecting it in an ordinary would cure the individual within a matter of minutes."

            "Meaning I'm a walking cure," Max surmised.

            "Which is why we needed to bring you along," Lydecker said.  "To be quite honest, I don't know if there's a point at which your blood becomes too old to be effective."

            "So you want to make sure you can draw a few fresh CC's and inject it into you in case anything goes wrong out there," Max guessed.  The look on Lydecker's face let her know she was right on the money.

            "It's not just for me, though," Lydecker said, his words indicating a desire to explain though his expression betrayed no such concern.  "If anyone else on the team is infected, they'll need some of your blood, too.  Any other transgenic would survive, but not without symptoms.  We all need to be at 100% out there."

            "But I'm staying back here," Logan interrupted, a strange look on his face.  _What's he thinking? Max wondered silently, feeling as if she was one step behind the "ordinaries."  She found the sensation was not entirely to her liking._

            "You have to stay," Lydecker agreed with a knowing nod.  _Why? Max asked herself.  __Why does Logan have__ to stay behind?  She looked at Alec, and saw that his face had gone at least three shades paler.  __Oh crap, he knows too, she cursed silently.  It was bad enough to be slower than the ordinaries, but to have Alec figure something out before her was…  Then it suddenly hit her.  __Oh no, Max thought, a strange feeling descending upon her stomach.  It was as if a flock of seagulls had suddenly taken flight inside her, and were now bouncing from one side of her body cavity to the other.  __My blood's the cure, Max thought frantically.  __And my blood would kill Logan just as surely as the cult's pathogen would.  He's dead either way…_

            "When do we leave?" Alec asked, an earnest look on his face making Max certain that he was as distressed as she was.  Despite her best attempts to ignore the feeling, she was touched that he genuinely seemed to care.  "We have to get out there.  We have to stop them."

            "Not until the briefing is over, soldier," Lydecker replied, once again taking a deep breath before continuing.  This time Max knew the action hadn't been planned.  She also knew, however, that they all had to take a mental step back before continuing.  They had to clear their minds of distractions and emotions before they got into the nuts and bolts of the mission.  "I haven't even covered the basics yet, such as where we're going and what kind of resistance we're likely to encounter."

            _I'm gonna throw up, Max suddenly realized, hot flashes starting to sweep across her face as her stomach began to feel even worse.  Then a strange feeling of peace suddenly washed over her, hitting her like a cool wave washing away the sweat and hot sand from a steamy day at the beach.  The seagulls in her stomach set down lightly, and Max's breathing became easier.  Deep down she could feel that everything was going to be okay.  She knew there would be a terrible fight, and that not everyone would come out of it alive, but she knew in the end it would be all right.  The sensation was unlike anything she had felt before… at least since she was in Jam Pony and realized that the Familiars were coming in.  __Just what the hell am I? she wondered.  __It feels like some kind of precognition… what the hell did Sandeman do to me?_

            "It seems that the cult has had a bit of inner turmoil recently," Lydecker began, trying to get the briefing back on track.  "There's been some kind of a resistance within this past generation – a resistance that included Sandeman, the geneticist that came to the government with the idea and technology for the Manticore project that created all of you.  From what I've been able to gather, all of these resistors, save Sandeman, have been rounded up and terminated.  The cult has never been easy on rebellion."

            "This has happened before?" Zack asked.

            "Yes," Lydecker replied.  "The last time people opposed the plan of The Coming, as they call it, there was actually a greater threat to the cult.  It wasn't a rogue geneticist, though, since the technology didn't exist back then.  It was thousands of years ago, so the resistance did the only real thing it could – it started a new city-state and focused its efforts on stopping the Familiars."

            "A new city-state?" Max asked.

            "Troy," Lydecker replied.  "They started the city-state of Troy.  Everything seemed to be fine for several generations, at least until one of the Trojan Familiars seduced and abducted a particularly valuable Familiar broodmare."

            "Helen," Logan concluded.

            "Yes, Helen," the colonel confirmed.  "We all know the rest of the story, I assume.  Armies clashed, and several of the best specimens up to that point – Achilles, Hector, Ajax, Odysseus, and all the rest – struggled against each other even as the armies of ordinaries killed each other around them.  Eventually Troy fell and the resistance ended."

            "Just like it ended this time," Alec muttered.  His expression was just as coolly nonchalant as always, but Max could sense a hint of unease in Alec's voice that she knew none of the others had caught.  Of everyone in the room, she knew Alec best, and she was certain that he was starting to have doubts.  She had to do something to dispel his concerns.

            "It isn't over yet," Max said with all the stoicism she could muster, despite her own misgivings about Lydecker's assault.  "It isn't over until every one of the transgenics is killed.  It isn't over until those bastards find a way to kill me and stop my cure from ever getting out."

            "And I don't plan on letting that happen," Lydecker said evenly, that grim look of determination that Max knew so well washing over his features.

            "So what exactly is their plan?" Zack asked.  _Now there's one that's all business, just like always, Max decided.  Once again, after the greater part of a year without him, Max was feeling as if Zack was her rock, the one person who would never stray from the mission, who would always be there to make certain that she would remain safe.  "I assume you know something specific."_

            "A large contingent of Familiars has come to initiate The Coming," Lydecker said.  "This is our last – our only – chance to stop them for good."

            "Why here and why now?" Krit asked.

            "I assume they've decided on now because of what Sandeman's efforts have done to their plans.  The transgenics are resistant to their pathogen, and Max is completely immune.  They probably feel they have to release the pathogen before anyone figures out just what Max has.  If someone realizes they can create an antidote from her blood…  Well, it would likely be less than a year before millennia of planning is made completely obsolete."

            "So that's the why," Zack concluded with a satisfied nod.  "What about the location, though?  This doesn't make much sense.  In case they haven't noticed, it's a wasteland out there.  Releasing the pathogen here isn't likely to kill anybody."

            "The Familiars have a tremendous amount of adherence to custom and ritual," Lydecker explained.  "They've had to, after all, to keep a project like theirs together for millennia.  They're absolutely fanatical, and while that can be a great asset, it's also a great weakness.  That more than anything else is why they're here.

            "There's a little town not far from here, the remnants of an Israeli settlement built on the ruins of a much older city," Lydecker explained.  "The town was called Megiddo."

            "Oh my God," Logan muttered, immediately appearing surprised that the words had escaped his mouth.  His eyes darted around nervously, seeming to hope that no one had heard him.  He looked embarrassed when he obviously realized that he was in a room full of transgenics – nothing that escaped his lips was going to go unheard.

            "What?" Max asked.

            "In ancient times Megiddo was known by another name," Logan explained cryptically.

            "What?" Max repeated, suddenly becoming irritated at her friend's evasiveness.

            "Armageddon," Lydecker stated.  "The name comes from the hill at Megiddo – the Hebrew word for hill is har – so the Greek rendering of the word went from Har Megiddo to Armageddon.  According to prophecy, it's where the world ends.  I've searched several old maps and found a reference to something called the Well of the Seas.  It was apparently the water source for Megiddo.  In ancient times the city held off several sieges, and one of the reasons was their incredibly well developed water storage and supply system, both of which were essential in an arid climate.  According to legend, the Well of the Seas was connected to every lake and river in the world, and would thus never run dry."

            "But legends don't usually provide a great basis for strategy," Set muttered.  "Zack's point is still valid – this is a stupid place to release their pathogen, no matter what their old legends say."

            "But all legends have a basis in fact," Lydecker countered.  "As you see more of the world, you'll start to realize that.  My original conclusion was the same as yours, but just to be certain I ran a series of satellite images, mostly infrared but some ultrasonic scans, too.  While it isn't exactly accurate to say the Well of the Seas is connected to every ocean of the world, it _does appear to be rather directly connected to the Mediterranean Sea, which leads out to the Atlantic; and the Jordan River, which eventually feeds into the Dead Sea, the Gulf of Aqaba, the Red Sea, to the Arabian Sea, and eventually into the Indian Ocean.  Treating the water in that well would mean that within days, this pathogen would be able to disperse into oceans on both sides of the world."_

            "So obviously that's the place the Familiars want to poison with the pathogen," Zack concluded.  "I guess if they're hell bent on only releasing their pathogen in one place, this is as good a site as any."

            "That's right, and they're here because of tradition," Lydecker said.  "Technology could probably make this easier for them – imagine aerosolizing the snake blood and releasing it into the eye of a hurricane, or dispersing it in the upper atmosphere with a rocket and allowing it to rain down on an entire continent.  It would be far more effective, and almost impossible to stop them.  Instead, in order to avoid heresy comparable to Sandeman's dabbling in genetics, they've returned en masse to the home of prophecy, to release their plague upon the world as it was foretold so long ago."

            "So you're saying that the ancient prophecies were all about the Familiars?" Alec asked dubiously.

            "Yes," Lydecker answered.  "At least, that's what my best researchers have decided.  Apparently, from what I'm told, there's a bit of confusion because of all the translating and retranslating of legends which took place as various civilizations rose and fell in the Mediterranean region thousands of years ago.  We all know that the Familiars have some kind of Minoan connection – they use Linear-A as their written language.  No one knows much about Minoan religion, but there are images of men with lion's paws which seem to have been sacred in some way, and we think that this image was actually the original sigil used by the members of this breeding cult."

            "Meaning that the ancient Minoans worshipped the Familiars?" Max asked.

            "Possibly," Lydecker replied.  "We just don't know enough to make any real conclusions about that.  Anyway, after the Minoan capital of Knossos was all but destroyed by a volcanic eruption and the civilization fell, it's reasonable to assume that the survivors spread out, hopefully looking to avoid losing their entire population in another natural disaster.  Our theory is that one prominent group went to Greece, and another went into Persia.  The creature now referred to as a manticore was first referenced in Persia sometime in the fifth century, B.C., and was called martikhoras in the old Persian.  From there, as one would expect according to our theory, the legend and image of the manticore quickly spread to Greece.

            "Anyway, back in old Persian territory, where Megiddo was located, prophecies of the end of the world were being recorded," Lydecker continued.  "Some images contain demons and angels, the forces of light and darkness, fighting on the har Megiddo.  By our reckoning, there was a mistranslation that led the image of the manticore to be interpreted not as a militant human cult, but as a supernatural, demonic army."

            "That's reasonable enough looking at the world through the eyes of an ancient human," Logan interrupted.  "If these Familiars were half as strong then as they are now, they would have appeared to be superhuman warriors, all but untouchable on the battlefield."  Max found herself looking from Logan to Lydecker, trying to figure out which episode of The Twilight Zone she had walked into.  She had never heard Lydecker give an extended diatribe on ancient history, and from the look of her siblings, she guessed none of them had ever heard the colonel go on like this, either.  _And to have Logan dive right in and start finishing the colonel's thoughts?  Way too weird…_

            "You seem to understand our reasoning completely," Lydecker agreed with Logan, seeming relieved that someone else in the room seemed to follow his group's assumptions.  "Which brings us back to the prophecies of the end of the world, and their plans to poison the Well of the Seas."

            "The rivers will run red with blood," Logan muttered almost imperceptibly.  Max looked at him nervously, hoping he was holding himself together better than his voice made her fear he was.  Logan looked back at her, and a strange, rueful smile spread on his lips.  "I always figured the prophecies of doom and gloom were more figurative than literal… didn't think it meant that a bunch of kooks were gonna dump a lot of snake's blood in an old well."  Max couldn't help but grin in response.

            "What's the threat assessment?" Zack suddenly asked, predictably being the one to bring the group's attention back to the threat from the Familiars.

            "We're unsure," Lydecker relied hesitantly.  "Logan helped get our system hooked into a geo-synchronous spy satellite, so we've had the area around Megiddo under surveillance for the past eight hours.  There's definitely been some movement, but most everyone is covered head to toe to protect against sand, sun, and radioactive particulate matter.  Can't see faces, so we can only estimate the numbers."

            "And what's the estimate?" Zack asked.

            "At least twenty," Lydecker answered.  "I would assume there would be a few more than that, but I'd doubt more than forty.  We've been able to get a decent view of the underground complex that leads to the well, but while we can get a good idea of the layout, we can't get enough detail to do much counting of individual heat sources.  Sorry, but between twenty and forty is the best estimate I can get us."

            "Even twenty is way over the top," Alec said.  Max could only assume Alec was remembering the beating he took at the hands of just one Familiar back at Jam Pony.  _That was where the odds were even, and that was definitely a close call, she thought as she looked around at her comrades in arms.  __And here we have me, Set, Alec, Zack, Krit, and the colonel.  We could be outnumbered up to 7-1… this is insane._

            "We have one thing that the Familiars don't have, though," Lydecker said.

            "The element of surprise," Krit commented.

            "Maybe, but I won't make that assumption," the colonel said evenly.  "What we have is years of military training that taught us to function as a group.  Most every one of the Familiars lives a double-life, needing to blend in with the ordinaries even as they prepare for the apocalypse.  That takes time away from training."

            "It's not exactly like all of us have spent the last ten years training, either," Max reminded the colonel.

            "But you started as soon as you could walk," Lydecker retorted.  "The Familiars don't even indoctrinate their people until they're strong enough to survive infection with the pathogen.  All of you learned to fight at the same time you learned to talk.  The human body has a capacity for development of motor skills that is unparalleled in early youth.  You all took advantage of that, and our enemies didn't.  One on one, I seriously doubt that when it got down to it, any of them would be a match for you.  You showed that much at Jam Pony."

            "But it ain't one on one out there," Max reminded everybody.  She hated being the one to complain, but she also felt the need to point out the obvious.

            "And that's where our teamwork comes in," Lydecker replied, setting his gaze directly at Max, boring into her eyes in a staring match.  "And we also have some of the best military equipment in the world at our disposal," the colonel added.

            "What?" Max asked.  "No way, Deck.  You know how I feel about that."

            "I knew this was gonna be a problem for you, Max," Lydecker sighed in disappointed exasperation.  "I know you don't like using weapons, but we really don't have a choice here.  We're gonna have to cross hundreds of yards of open space at a time, and we'll be sitting ducks without firearms.  And like you said, it _ain't one on one out there.  We need every equalizer that we can get.  It's not just our victory that's at stake."_

            "Fine," Max spat, wanting to press the issue but also knowing that given the circumstances, challenging the colonel's authority before battle could doom them even more effectively than being outnumbered.  "But don't expect me to like it."  She hated the thought of firing a weapon at someone, at tearing an enemy to pieces with bullets rather than simply immobilizing him temporarily.  _But he's right, she had to admit.  __With odds like these…_

            "Dismissed," Lydecker stated loudly, knocking Max out of her reverie.  Everyone stood to leave, and Max was starting to move toward Logan when the colonel got to him first.  "If you could stay behind, son?" Lydecker asked.  _I guess that's my cue to leave, Max decided.  She figured she could always find out later what the colonel had said behind their backs._

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            "What do you want?" Logan asked once all of the X-5's had left the room.

            "I assume that's not a rhetorical question," Lydecker replied.  "Don't know that I have enough time to list everything I want.  Let me sum it up in one thing, though.  I want forgiveness… or at least understanding."

            "Then you're asking the wrong person," Logan replied, making certain his face was devoid of any feeling, especially pity.

            "I'm not going to ask anyone," Deck shot back.  "I'm not foolish enough to ever think it's even possible to ask for forgiveness for what I've done to those kids.  I can only satisfy myself with the knowledge that it was necessary."

            "Was it?" Logan shot back, not missing a beat.

            "Damn right," Lydecker growled.  "If I had to do all over again, I wouldn't change a goddamn thing.  Doesn't make me feel better about it, though.  Sometimes we have to do things we don't like, and sometimes the right thing can hurt innocent people.  I don't know why my kids can't understand that.  Of course, it's not like they have a choice about anything right now, running from the government, the ordinaries, and White's cronies all at the same time.  It never should have come to this, Logan; they're not ready for it.  I devoted my life to them, preparing them to fight, and it never occurred to me to show them how to _live.  It's my greatest mistake, and believe me I've made more than my share.  They're in this situation because of me, so with all I've done, I know I can't ask any of them for forgiveness… I can only hope to find it for myself.  I'm going to start with this," he added, digging into his pocket and producing a small, white box, which he handed to Logan._

            "What is it?" Logan asked curiously, hesitant to open the box for fear of what Lydecker might have put inside.

            "Open it," the colonel instructed.

            Despite his concerns, Logan did as he was told.  Inside he found a ring with the initials LC.  "Gee, thanks Deck, I always wanted an initial ring," he said sarcastically.  The cheesiness of the gesture made Logan want to puke all over Lydecker's brightly polished combat boots.  Still, however, there was something about the ring that Logan found intriguing, and an almost imperceptible gleam in the colonel's expression that he found reminiscent of James Bond's Q.

            "The insignia hides a hollow compartment," Lydecker replied, seeming to ignore Logan's attitude.  "Inside the compartment you'll find three pieces of microfilm."

            "What's on them?" Logan asked, suddenly very curious.  _And how do you think they're gonna get you forgiveness?_

            "One piece of film lists over a dozen cells of transgenics that I've organized, all of them currently training to form units of their own again," the colonel said.  "Whether we succeed or not out there tonight, there's still gonna be a lot more fighting ahead.  All of them were told about you, and all will accept your orders if you go to them."

            "_My orders?" Logan asked.  "You've got to be kidding.  I'm no soldier."_

            "No, you're no soldier," Lydecker agreed, "but you're a natural leader, and you're a fair man.  You'll treat them well.  And most of all, you're an ordinary.  Like I said, there's lots of fighting to go, and in the end the ordinaries will have to deal with the fact that one of their own is leading the Manticore transgenics.  Our group will seem less like genetically engineered monsters hell-bent on global domination is they're all taking their orders from an ordinary.  It has to be this way, and you're the only man in the world I could ever trust with this job."

            "And why not you?" Logan asked.

            "It _will be me… if I come back," Lydecker countered.  "I'm just preparing a contingency plan for if something goes wrong out there.  In case you hadn't noticed, I'm going to be the only ordinary in a battle between transgenics and Familiars.  I may not like admitting it, but my odds aren't all that good."_

            "Fine," Logan said without a trace of sympathy in his voice.  "So I assume that's what's on one of the pieces of microfilm.  What about the others?"

            "The second piece has the decryption program for all of my research," Lydecker told him.  "It also lists the locations of each of six copies of my files.  I spread them around for obvious reasons.  I have all kinds of information, Logan, including valuable data that I stole from one of the Familiars' safe houses, complete with some detailed genealogy charts.  I have lists of names of Familiars within the government, detailed biogenetic analyses of the Familiars' pathogen, and also an analysis that was just concluded on Max's antigen.  We've already started culturing the antigen in Max's blood, and within a month and a half we should have our first batch of antigens to distribute to the populace.  Basically, I have copies of every bit of information you'll ever need to shine the light of day on those sons of bitches."

            "Whoah," Logan muttered, amazed at how much it sounded Lydecker had gotten his hands on.  During the past half year, while everyone thought him dead, the colonel had apparently succeeded in recruiting a small, elite military force while all the while gathering every possible piece of pertinent information on his foes.  He had seen this conflict coming a mile away.

            "The last piece of microfilm," Lydecker added, is for you.  "I guess you could say it's a 'Thank You' gift for you, though it's just as much of an 'I'm Sorry' gift for Max."

            "What is it?"

            "It's the gene sequence of a rather special lymphocyte," Lydecker replied.  "It's what you need to develop an immunity to Max's genetically engineered virus."

            "What?" Logan asked, feeling his legs go weak.  For the briefest of moments he was afraid that his paralysis had returned, but then he realized he was simply overcome with stunned excitement.  "A cure?"

            "More precisely, it's a vaccine," Lydecker corrected.  "Well, sort of, anyway.  The cure is actually a retrovirus in its own right.  It'll attack Max's virus, which was specifically designed to attack you.  I used the same Manticore technology that Sandeman first created to destroy the Familiars' pathogen."

            "You didn't have to do that, it's not like we're like that," Logan said, almost out of habit.  "At least, not anymore, that is," he amended, trying once again to figure out exactly where he fit into Max's life.  He loved her, and had told her, only to have her turn his back on him because of the virus.  He couldn't blame her; in fact, part of him applauded what he felt was one of the few responsible decisions she had made since he'd met her.  But that hadn't lessened the blow when he'd seen her with Alec… or when she'd finally admitted that she and Alec were together.  Logan had thought the emotional pain of losing his legs was bad, but he'd learned that losing the one he loved more than any other was far worse than the loss of any physical faculty.  Then had come the siege at Jam Pony, and an all-too-brief respite that led to a second siege in Terminal City.  There, feeling alone against the world, Logan had felt Max come back to him, leaning against him for the strength she needed to hold her people together until she found within herself the power to lead, to command.  Logan had given all he could, and he had felt Max grow closer once again.

            "Of course you and Max aren't like that," Lydecker commented, his tone making it clear that he was obviously humoring Logan.  "If you two kids want to keep playing at whatever game you have, be my guest.  But if you want to be together, you'll be able to do that without fear of sudden death.  Doesn't mean things'll work out, just that the two of you will have the same chance as any other couple… for whatever that's worth."

            "I don't even have the words…" Logan muttered, for the first time seeing Lydecker in a new light and wondering if his constant abrasive treatment of the man had been totally warranted.

            "A simple 'thank you' will suffice, son," Lydecker replied.  "Just make sure not to let Max know about it before we leave, okay?  I know you two are tight, and I can see in your faces that there's lots of unresolved stuff that needs to be addressed.  For obvious reasons, we can't let this be the time that she starts dealing with all that emotional junk."

            "I understand," Logan said, seeing the truth in the colonel's words.

            "Oh, and one other thing, Logan," Lydecker advised.  "If I were you, I'd transfuse at least a pint of transgenic blood into you before using that treatment.  The initial effects will be _very nasty, and I honestly don't know if you'd survive the process without some help from one of my kids."_

            "Understood," Logan said, shaking his head at the fact that Lydecker still referred to Manticore's trangenics as 'his kids.'  _I guess that means they're about to have a family outing, he thought sarcastically.  __I guess I better get to the Operations Center and make sure there won't be too many heavily armed men waiting for them._

To be continued…………………………… 

**Author's Endnote: I just wanted to mention that I truly hope this chapter was as good as I wanted it to be.  I hate to ask for reviews, but I put more effort than usual into this installment (and, as I mentioned above, I got some _great_ help) and I would like to know if there's anything in particular I did or did not do well.  So please take a minute to review, even if you didn't like it.  I could use all the help I can get to get better.**


	10. Into the Fire

James Cameron and Charles Eglee own Dark Angel. My use is in no way meant to challenge their copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned (or any other) copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons, either real or fictional, is unintended.

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X – Into the Fire 

            "Alpha team stand by," Max heard Logan say over the com.  _Not again, she cursed silently.  The trip over the rapidly cooling sand had gone quickly at first as Lydecker and his five X-5's had approached the Har Megiddo without even the hint of resistance.  Max had even dared to think that the colonel had been misinformed, that they were actually in the wrong place, or that maybe the Familiars had aborted their plans to initiate The Coming.  As they drew closer to their target, however, all of Max's hopes had been dashed.  Although she and Alec – beta team in this strike – didn't appear to face any immediate obstacles, Max and her partner still slowed slightly, making certain they didn't draw too close to alpha team – the group comprised of Lydecker, Zack, and Krit.  They were supposed to be covering the three-man vanguard, and if they didn't keep a safe distance they ran the risk of falling into the same zone of fire as the people they were supposed to be protecting.  A mistake like that would make the strategy of dividing their force completely useless._

            "Copy, base," Lydecker responded over the line.  Moments crawled by like hours, and Max's muscles began to ache as she pressed he limbs into the sand dune she was using for cover.  She knew she had to anchor herself well enough to avoid an awkward slide that could betray their presence and position.

            "All clear," Logan finally said, just as Max was getting ready to ask what the hold-up was.  _At least the wait gave the sky more time to get even darker, she noted, trying to see the positive side of the inconvenience.  Though the sky was completely clear, it was now almost completely dark, and she took heart in the fact that Lydecker had told them a post-mortem analysis of a captured Familiar had revealed that their night vision was far inferior to that of the transgenics.  Apparently, human evolution could only go so far, and to get a true advantage at night the species had to sample from other animals' gene pools._

            "Copy that," Lydecker replied.  "We're moving into Zone Two," he added.  _This is it, Max reminded herself.  Zone Two was the first area where they expected the possibility of combat, located at the outer edge of the Familiars' defensive perimeter.  Fifty years earlier an archaeological dig had uncovered the entrance to a large catacomb system that had then led to Megiddo's ancient cistern and the underground rivulets and wells that had fed it.  The long-abandoned entrance into these subterranean vaults was at the center of the Familiars' main camp.  There was constantly a team of four armed guards at the entrance, as well as three roving pairs of armed guards walking the perimeter._

            _"Why aren't they using dogs?" Alec had asked.  It had seemed like a serious oversight, and not even the colonel had been able to explain it.  He had just told them not to question their luck.  __Yeah, we're lucky all right, Max thought as she poked her head over a dune and caught sight of the mouth to the catacombs.  All four guards were there, standing in a circle with each of them facing one of the four points of the compass.  They were obsidian statues against the midnight blue sky behind them, and Max found herself poring over every detail of the guards, trying to see any sign that they were actually living beings and not inanimate decoys.  She took a deep breath, trying to catch a scent, but only detected the same combination of ozone and smoke that she had smelled since arriving in the charred expanse of uninhabited desert.  Next she tried to detect even the smallest sign of breathing, but saw nothing.  She was about get on the com to ask Lydecker if he was sure these were real men when she saw the slightest twitch from one of the targets.  Once again her hopes were dashed.  __This is actually gonna be as bad as the colonel warned us._

            "Stand by for entry," Lydecker advised.  Max knew this part of the plan – Zack and Krit would use sniper rifles to take out the entranceway guards, and then both teams would try to cover the open field and get inside before any of the three pairs of roving sentries noticed the breach in security.  Once they were underground and had managed to gain a foothold on the secured enemy territory, it would be up to Set, who was wandering around on his own, to eliminate any threats that might attempt to attack from the rear.

            Max never heard the four gunshots that cracked into the night, but she saw all four guards collapse to the ground without a sound, a slight mist erupting from each of their heads right before their feet collapsed out from under them.  _They shouldn't have been standing so still, Max thought.  __For a transgenic, that was literally as easy as shooting ducks in a bathtub.  She chased the image from her mind as she gathered herself to dash across the sand, then bounded to her feet with Alec just as the colonel commanded, "Now!"_

            Lydecker's team moved only as fast as the colonel could, so Max and Alec had made up most of the distance between the two squads and were only moments behind when the first three attackers entered the Familiars' captured underground complex.  Tears started to form in Max's eyes as she raced along, wind whipping into her face as she devoted all of her attention to keeping perfect stride, making certain she didn't stumble and attract any undue attention to herself.  _Remember, Maxie – there are still six sentries out there somewhere, she told herself._

            "Alpha team stand by," Logan suddenly said quickly.  "I read three heat signatures approaching the entrance.  They're moving at a walk, so I don't think they're moving to reinforce, but they'll have the superior position underground."

            "Too late for that now," Lydecker cursed.  "We're already out in the open.  Stand by for a status report."

            Max pushed herself ever faster, and was little more than a blur when she reached the entrance – a six- by four-foot hole in the ground – and bounded over the bodies of the dead guards.  Alec smoothly fell into a defensive crouch, covering Max as she dropped into the unlit passageway below, joining alpha team underground and hoping she would be able to help them if they got into trouble.  As she hit the dirt-covered stone floor, her senses were assaulted by bright flashes and thunderous, echoing gunshots that reverberated down the hall.  A high-pitched shriek followed a moment later, then two more as Alec jumped in behind Max.  "We've met some resistance," she heard Lydecker say, his voice several feet away drowning out the report that simultaneously came over the com.  "Three female guards are out, but Krit's been hit badly.

            "No," Max gasped, taking four long strides and joining her comrades just around a turn in the hall.  Lydecker's succinct report had been completely accurate – three dead women lay in the dirt, and Krit was crouched into a ball, obviously applying pressure to his gut while he ignored a serious wound in his leg that was spreading an ever-growing pool of blood around him.

            Max hardly even noticed how lucky she was to have her trangenetically enhanced nightvision.  With a cat's ability to see in near-darkness, she and her team had far more than enough illumination provided to them by the heavy torches that hung in surprisingly polished silver sconces.  Every ten meters a ten-foot wide area was faintly lit by a twinkling, red-orange glow that itself seemed to shrink away from the oppressive darkness of the catacombs.  But in darkness, twilight, or firelight, the transgenics were in their element… and they knew it.

            "Can you keep going?" Lydecker asked Krit evenly.  Max wondered whether Deck was actually as unconcerned with Krit's condition as he seemed to be, or whether a lifetime of military service simply allowed him to focus on the mission without permitting personal feelings to become involved.

            "I'm gonna have to stay behind," Krit replied just as Set's voice came over the com.

            "One of their pairs of guards got past me," he reported, his voice holding a hint of pain and fatigue.  _Shit, he took a hit, too, Max concluded.  They were less than a minute into the fight, and they'd already suffered two casualties.  __At least they weren't KIA, Max told herself. __It could definitely be worse._

            "Get down," Zack instructed the others as he raised his assault rifle to his shoulder and took aim.  Only seconds later, a shadowy form jumped into the catacomb.  Zack ducked back around the bend as he carefully removed a grenade from his belt, taking care to leave the pin in, and Max wondered for a moment what her old commander was up to.  She then heard a second person enter, and Zack tossed out the unarmed grenade, waited a brief moment until the Familiars predictably scrambled for some kind of cover, and then whirled around the bend a second time, this time unleashing a salvo that Max assumed had neutralized the threat.

            "We're clear down here," Zack reported.

            "Hold your fire, I'm coming down," Set responded.  Max directed her attention back to Krit, hoping her concern wasn't as obvious as she assumed it would be.

            "This is bad, sir," Krit muttered as Lydecker broke into the field med kit he was carrying.

            "Yes, it is," Lydecker agreed, motioning impatiently for Krit to move his hands so the colonel could get to the wounds.  _Never one to mince words, is he, Max thought, part of her actually pleased that Lydecker could be expected to give his honest opinion out in the field.  He expected his soldiers to be able to handle anything, even their own inevitable deaths if they were injured badly.  He didn't see the need to coddle them with false assurances._

            "How many times were you hit?" Lydecker asked as he put down the med kit and pulled out his survival knife, immediately going to work cutting off Krit's vest and shirt.

            "At least three," Krit gasped in pain as he moved slightly, allowing the colonel to get a better angle at the vest.  "And the leg wound had to have hit the femoral artery," he added.  "No other way I'd be bleeding like this."  He looked up at the others hopefully, and Max could only nod in agreement, sick that she couldn't give the same kind of assurances she had just been commending the colonel for avoiding.

            "We can't stay here," Zack said as he rejoined the group, Set following closely at his heels.

            "He could die if we don't treat him right now," Max retorted.  Zack glared at her in response, and Set dug into the med kit and pulled out a roll of gauze for himself, which he immediately started wrapping around his left forearm.

            "You hit too?" Alec asked.  Set only nodded in affirmation.

            "Zack's right," Krit gasped, wiping away a trail of blood that had appeared at the corner of his mouth.  _Internal bleeding, Max knew.  "You can't stay here with me while the mission is still unfinished," Krit said.  "I'll be fine… I'll make sure no one else can sneak up behind you.  They __have to know we're here, sir."_

            "I know," Lydecker replied, finishing stripping off the clothes on Krit's upper body and revealing two small holes in his abdomen, one bleeding freely by his spleen, and the other, right through his stomach, already seeming to clot.  "It's up to you to finish up here," he added, throwing another roll of gauze at his wounded man.

            "Yes, sir," Krit said, bravely trying to muster a smile but only producing a grimace.  "Just don't forget to pick me up on your way out."

            "You got it," Max said as she fought to steady her nerves and prepare herself to leave her brother behind.  She found it was one of the hardest things she had ever done.

            "Double-time it," Zack ordered as the group started to move once again.  Set was now in the lead, followed ten feet behind by Lydecker and Zack, with Max and Alec bringing up the end ten feet farther back.  They were moving at a brisk walk, and Max suddenly heard the whisper of several silenced shots ring out ahead of her.  A thud followed as several shell casings jingled onto the smooth stone floor, and moments later she was stepping over the dead body of a guard that had apparently been waiting around yet another blind curve.  _I know he said he'd be good at this, but what the hell? Max wondered quietly, surprised that Set hadn't even seemed to slow down as he had taken out the sentry.  Before the strike, Set had told them that he would be best left alone above, that his overly-specialized urban combat training would make him a hindrance to the group as they attempted to move unseen over an open expanse of sand.  He had assured them, though, that once they got into the underground caverns he would be much more at home.  __"I'll just pretend I'm fighting through some sewer tunnels," he had said with an uncharacteristic, devilish grin.  __Zack was right… he's definitely gung-ho, Max reminded herself again._

            No one slowed in the least as Logan came in over the com, his voice now crackling due to increasing interference as they descended lower underground.  "You'd all better slow down a little," he advised.  "You're coming up to Junction Point."  _This is it, Max thought, bracing herself for the unexpected.  As Logan and Lydecker had gone over the schematics they had been able to draw, one location in particular had proven to be a problem.  This area, which they had nicknamed Junction Point, seemed to be the convergence of no fewer than seven tunnels.  The problem was that between the depth, the underground waterways that cooled the rock, and all of the radiation above ground, it was difficult to judge how the tunnels were all layered.  Lydecker had assumed there were at least two levels, maybe three, with tunnels meeting up at this one point, passageways above passageways.  The lack of clarity made it all but impossible to know exactly what they were walking into._

            "Any resistance?" Lydecker asked.

            "I'm reading at least six heat signatures," Logan answered, "but I can't tell if they're on the same level as you, or if they're below you."

            "They might even be above us," Alec muttered.  They had all assumed that the tunnels all kept descending, but there was, of course, the possibility that one branch went up.  If they found that to be the case, they might be forced to divide their group.

            "Don't worry about that yet," Lydecker growled.  "If we decide we have to change the plan, we'll deal with it then."  Alec remained silent in response, just as he should have.  Max marveled at how well they all worked together, with Lydecker in the lead.  The team unity Manticore had instilled in them as children was coming back just as much as Lydecker had said it would.

            "There are at least three guards on our level," Set reported.  "Correction – four.  I can make out their individual breathing."  _Goddamn he's good, Max marveled.  Though she was just as physically gifted as any X5, and though she had received much the same instruction in her youth, Max hadn't devoted nearly as much of her life to training as Set had.  Part of her was jealous, knowing that her skills could have been every bit as sharp as Set's… if only she hadn't spent so much of her life going to work and making friends.  __So maybe it's not really that much of a biggie, she decided.  If given the chance, she wouldn't change any of the decisions she had made after Manticore._

            "Slow up," Lydecker ordered.  "You've gotten a bit farther ahead of us than we planned."

            "I can take them, sir," Set responded.

            "They have to know we're coming," Zack put in.

            "Roger that," Set answered, his voice betraying no hint of concern.  "Stand by for me to clear our way."

            "Set," Lydecker hissed.  "I want you to have back-up."  No words came back over the com, but they all heard a short burst of silenced gunfire, and as Max decided to run, bolting ahead to keep up with Lydecker and Zack as they went to reinforce Set, she heard a few muffled cries.  By the time she had reached the small, torch lit chamber where Set, Zack, and Lydecker were standing, it was all over.

            "I'm sorry, sir," Set was saying, his eyes turned toward the floor, avoiding looking at his commanding officer.  "I know I disobeyed a direct order, but I had concerns."

            "What concerns?" Lydecker asked angrily.

            "Maybe this?" Alec asked, removing a sub-vocal communicator from one of the sentries.  _They're tapped into our communications, Max realized.  __Shit.  They know we're coming.  There's no way we have the element of surprise.  We're outnumbered and playing in someone else's territory.  She tried to think of any other detail that made their situation even worse, and soon came up with one.  __Oh, and we're on a time limit, so we don't have the luxury of moving slowly and carefully._

            "Crap," Lydecker cursed.  He looked around the room, seeing two tunnels that led further into the darkness.  "Logan, quickly," he muttered.  "Switch to frequency beta."  A click and a hiss followed as each of the transgenics also switched frequencies, and then Lydecker continued.  "We'll be rotating through our planned frequencies, switching over every four minutes.  Now Logan, we're looking at two exits.  What does that tell you?"

            "Stand by," Logan replied.

            "I don't have time to stand by," Lydecker replied impatiently.  "They know we're here.  They're probably well into their ritual by now."

            "That would probably be the quickly growing group that I would guess is below you," Logan said.  "There's also a small group on their way to you, and a pair that seems to be slowly retreating."

            "Where?" Alec asked.

            "Everyone get back," Set ordered.  "We'll see which hall they come out of, and then take that one."  It was only a few heartbeats before three Familiars dashed into the small chamber where Max and her team were waiting, each of them down on one knee, looking down the barrels of their weapons.  The Familiars never had a chance."

            Whispered pops crackled through the air as a brutally short salvo of bullets tore through the transgenics' enemies.  Max held her fire, refusing to use her pistol, but she noted the uselessness of her stand against Lydecker's plan.  It changed nothing – the Familiars still died when Max felt they could just as easily have been disabled.  She wanted to scream out in protest, but her thoughts were once more sent plummeting back into the past as she again relived one of her life's most painful moments – when she saw Eva shot dead in her tracks.  By the time Max had regained her bearings, the group was already on its feet, preparing to take the left tunnel.

            "No more delays," Lydecker growled.  Part of Max wanted to lunge at the colonel, to take vengeance for Eva's death, to live out so many fantasies that she had conjured on so many dark, frightening nights.  _But I can't, she realized.  __He's my ally now.  How much more confusing can life get?_

            Max pushed all of her thoughts and feelings deep inside, just as she was certain all the others had.  _I don't see any distraction in Alec's eyes, she noted.  __Or Set's.  Or Zack's._

            They were moving quickly now, each pair of feet raising a thin cloud of dust off the stones as they advanced on their goal, Logan giving constant assurances that there was no immediate threat.  The only two guards in their area, he reported, were still steadily falling back.  _"As if they're waiting for reinforcements," Lydecker had concluded.  Max could only hope that the reinforcements didn't outnumber them all too badly._

            Still, she knew, they had made it farther than most betting men would have guessed.  _This crazy attack might actually have a chance of succeeding._

            "Everything seems to be falling into place now," Logan's voice crackled again, the interference growing stronger with every passing second.  "I can see where you… and where… headed.  The two … ahead of you … proceeding … toward … large … most of the Familiars are."

            "Hold up," Set interrupted.  "I'm currently looking at a series of tripwires.  The section of hallway directly ahead of me, for about a dozen feet, seems thoroughly booby-trapped."

            "I'm coming up there," Zack muttered.

            _Damnit, Max thought, saying goodbye to all of the good luck they had seemed to be enjoying.  Krit had been the group's expert at disarming traps.  With him out of the picture, possibly already dead from blood loss, they would have to make do with their second-best man for the job.  That was supposedly Zack._

            "It's just tripwires," Zack reported moments later.  "If we just avoid them, we should be fine.  Doesn't look like there's really anything more formidable than that."

            "You certain?" Lydecker asked nervously.  Max knew what the colonel was thinking – motion sensors, noise detectors, and lasers could all pose some completely unavoidable obstacles.  Overlooking them could mean instant death for one or more of their people.

            "I'm certain," Zack assured the others.

            "I'm going ahead," Set commented evenly, volunteering to be the group's guinea pig.  "If anything blows up, you know Zack was wrong."  Several moments of silence followed, and then Set's voice continued.  "Looks like it's clear.  I did see some mines embedded in the wall, not far down the hallway, though.  Any of you trip a wire, you'll probably end up being in a lot of pain for those few seconds before you die."  _Ooh, that's comforting, Max thought, keeping her sarcastic reply to herself._

            "Then let's get moving again," Lydecker ordered.  By the time Max reached the trapped section of the hall, Set was out of sight around a bend that clearly started to descend deeper below ground, and Zack was waiting for the colonel to make it past the wires.  _He's too damn slow, Max decided, watching Lydecker move with the awkwardness of an ordinary, the lack of coordination and the normal, inferior nightvision of an ordinary combining to handicap him in this situation.  She chased her haughty, almost condescending sentiments from her head, reminding herself that such clearly prejudicial feelings of superiority would doubtlessly cloud her judgment when it came time to deal fairly with the ordinaries back home.  Finally, after two full minutes of irritatingly time-consuming movement, Lydecker was past the traps and moving down the hallway with Zack._

            The echo of bullets ricocheting off the walls ahead caught everyone's attention, and Max decided to just go for broke so that she would be able to reach Set before he was overwhelmed by whatever resistance he had run into.  A hop, skip, jump, double round-over and a vaulting twist later she was running full tilt behind Zack and Lydecker, not even looking back to make sure Alec negotiated the hallway properly.  She had seen him get past enough security systems to have full confidence in his ability to slip past a few tripwires.

            By the time she reached Set, the action was obviously over.  He was going through the pockets of his two deceased adversaries, and Zack and Lydecker were looking over the walls surrounding a door that lay situated at a dead end.  "This it?" Max asked nonchalantly, trying to suppress her anxiety.  _Of course this is it, she chastised herself silently.  __Ya gotta calm down, girl._

            "Your sig… really break… up," Logan commented over the com.  "… looks like … at the vault …"

            "Affirmative," Lydecker whispered.  "The entrance is blocked by a rather large granite door, Logan.  It's strange… it doesn't look like this rock came from anywhere even remotely near here."

            "Worry about your mysteries later," Set seethed.  "Find a way to open it, colonel."  Max looked at Set with curious eyes, poring over his expression with wonder, surprised at how eager he seemed to get into combat.  He had dropped his duffel bag and was pulling out a second MP-5 and a fresh double clip for each of his weapons.  _Well, I guess he's ready, Max decided, knowing that each weapon would fire ninety rounds before Set's ammunition was exhausted.  Behind her she heard Alec opening his heavy canvas bag, and turned to watch him pull out his M-60 and slap a drum clip into the weapon.  __Boys and their toys, Max thought ruefully as she lightly fingered the 9mm holstered on her hip.  She had only brought the weapon to satisfy the other members of her team, and she'd be damned before she actually drew it and fired on anyone.  __No way I'm using that unless I have absolutely no choice._

            "I think I found a release," Zack muttered, and almost as if it came in reply, they all heard a sudden murmur begin to reverberate through the stone.

            "What's going on in there, Logan?" Lydecker asked.

            "Say ag…" Logan answered.  "… read you."

            "What's going on in there?" Lydecker repeated.

            "Can't tell," Logan replied.  "I'm … to scan for heat … two-hundred feet … sand and rock.  I can … lot of people in the next room, but there's … count … many.  There's … for me to know … doing."

            "Get that goddamn door open," Set growled, his eyes narrowing menacingly as he turned to face the closed door.  Max could almost see his tightly corded muscles tense up underneath his black nighttime fatigues.  The two MP-5's hung at his sides as his breathing shallowed out, and for some reason Max was beset with the image of a famished tiger waiting impatiently to be released into the Roman Coliseum.

            "If you have the release, then get us in there," Lydecker added angrily, almost pushing Zack aside as he tried to get a look at the mechanism.

"Fine, here goes," Zack muttered.

            _Yep, here goes, Max echoed.  __Okay, boys and girls… time to stop the apocalypse._

_To be continued……………………………_


	11. A Bang and a Whimper

James Cameron and Charles Eglee own Dark Angel. My use is in no way meant to challenge their copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned (or any other) copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons, either real or fictional, is unintended.

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XI – A Bang and a Whimper 

            _Okay, this is it, Max told herself as she took a deep breath, preparing for the worst.  Set seemed absolutely beside himself with impatient anxiety in front of the door as Lydecker and Zack prepared to trigger the release to open the entrance to the chamber.  The murmur from within grew into a louder chant, a tinge of frenzy beginning to surface amongst the words.  Max had no idea what the people within were saying, but the tone was unmistakably bad._

            "On three," Lydecker muttered.  Set simply nodded stiffly, seeming single-mindedly focused on getting at his enemies.  Alec, walking up next to Set, was obviously more nervous.  He looked at Max, his eyes holding a hint of something she had never seen before.  She almost fell over when she finally placed the emotion – regret.

            "Sorry for everything I did to piss you off," he muttered to her, immediately drawing an angry stare from the colonel.

            "Quiet, soldier," he warned.  "This is neither the time nor the place.  You can have your little heart to heart later."  Alec nodded in reply, but Max knew what her friend was thinking – _What if there isn't a later?_

            "Ready, sir," Zack commented as he finished poring over the ancient mechanism, apparently certain he knew how to work it.

            "Okay, one…" Lydecker said, immediately falling silent as he counted off 'two' and 'three' on his fingers.  On three, Zack tripped the release and a shrill, grating sound erupted from the millennia-old stonework.  Max heard a counter-balancing stone give way within the wall, and in front of her the massive dark granite door rose slowly, revealing a horde of Familiars within, some of them sitting on the floor in lotus position, eyes closed and chanting, and others standing over them, unarmed but apparently acting as guards.  Before she even had a moment to start counting to realize just how hopeless the odds were, Set was already within the room, opening up with his two MP-5's.  He had removed the silencers – probably to increase fear and confusion within his foes by adding the deafening noise of automatic gunfire to the melee – and was moving with surgeon-like patience and precision through his enemies, reducing men, women, and even a few children to shredded meat.

            Alec was right behind Set, his feet spread wide to help him steady himself against the jarring recoil of his large, intimidating M-60.  If the noise from Set's weapons caused confusion, Alec's machinegun was inciting absolute bedlam.  The thunderous report from the weapon reverberated off the walls, sending constant jolts of searing pain through Max's head as she dashed into the chamber, Lydecker and Zack close on her heels.

            The unarmed Familiars, no fewer than three dozen of them, immediately began fighting back, seemingly unconcerned with the superior firepower possessed by their enemies.  In fact, Max noted a fierce, fanatical look in their eyes that actually concerned her, despite her squad's apparent advantage.  In the time it took Max to enter the room and find an enemy to take out, Set had already emptied both of his weapons' double-clips and was quickly beset by a rather large pure breed.  Alec kept firing, though, trying to lay down enough fire to keep their enemies at bay.  Many of those still living were fleeing through a small door into an antechamber, obviously buying enough time to regroup.  Fearing there could be firearms in the back room, Max gave chase.  "Zack, Deck, follow me!" she screamed, hoping that they had somehow heard her over Alec's gunfire.

            Max ran into the small antechamber in full stride, hearing several knives ricochet off the wall inches from her, betraying the fact that the Familiars, as physically gifted as they were, were still a half-step slower than she was.  She scanned the room quickly, noting the huge, dark pool that dominated the center of the room.  Around the pool was a stone walkway, six feet around on three sides, and almost twenty feet wide on the far side, across from Max.  Making sure not to slow at all, Max kept running around the pool, noting two Familiars break away from a small group on the wide side, quickly moving to cut her off.  It was then that she saw them – two large, clay vessels, each large enough to hold at least twenty-five gallons.

            Four men were standing around the decanters while a priestess was screaming at them in an unknown language, motioning toward the pool.  _Doesn't take a genius to figure out what's in those vessels and what they're plannin' on doing with them, Max told herself.  __Gotta stop 'em now, Max.  The two Familiars lunged at her, only to come up with a solid grasp of empty air as she vaulted over them, surprising them with the decision to evade rather than confront.  The priestess's four Familiars lifted the two vessels and began to move toward the pool, but before Max could reach them she felt a sharp tug from behind her as one of her two attackers grabbed her hair, done up in a ponytail, and yanked her to the cold floor.  Her head bounced off the stone, and she fought to stay conscious as she heard the thunderous fire from Alec's M-60 suddenly cut out.  The gunfire was replaced by the clanging of metal on metal and the screams of the injured and dying in the sudden, relative silence.  Then she could smell the sickly sweet stench of her attacker's breath._

            "Not so quick after all, are ya, sweets?" he said mockingly.  In a heartbeat he was upon her, his overly developed body straddling her thin frame.  He held her down as his partner moved up and grabbed Max's head, turning it to face the four acolytes that were only a few short feet from the pool's edge, setting the vessels down as they removed the lids.

            "Front row seats for the end of the world," the second one commented all too happily.  "The culmination of prophecy – The Coming is upon us."

            "No," Max gasped as the four acolytes reverently placed the removed seals on the floor and moved back to the decanters.

            An unearthly silence descended upon the chamber, and Max thought of all the people – the normals – that would soon die if she didn't do something.  _Cindy, Sketchy, Kendra, Herbal… even Normal.  And Logan.  No – I have to do something!  She reached deep down, summoning every bit of her strength, focusing herself for a desperate attempt at saving everything and everyone that she had ever known.  Max violently convulsed every muscle in her body at once, throwing the Familiar on top of her off-balance.  She felt him falling off to her right, and she struggled to rise to her feet, leveraging herself up with her left arm, only to be sent crashing back down to the floor as the second Familiar brought a crushing strike down on her head, all but knocking her unconscious._

            "Not so fast," he muttered, surprising Max with his ability to gaze in awe at the ritual and also pay enough attention to her to prevent any escape.  In a heartbeat she was once again pinned underneath the larger of her two attackers, and her mind sought any possible tactic she could employ to escape.  _There has to be a way, she thought desperately.  But there wasn't, and a weak voice in the back of her mind was starting to admit that._

            The two pairs of acolytes once again grasped the decanters, preparing to raise them, when a rapid series of gunshots rang off the walls.  The priestess immediately collapsed and the acolytes were all knocked back, stoically trying to maintain their footing despite the unexpected salvo.  Max was barely able to move her head enough to see Lydecker run into the room, in her transgenetically enhanced eyes seeming to move at a snail's pace, firing two 9mm's at the Familiars.  She almost smiled at the irony of having the one ordinary in the battle be the one that held the fate of the world in his hands.

            The colonel ran around the pool, advancing on the clay vessels.  Max knew his simple plan - secure the decanters.  They needed do no more than that.  If the containers couldn't be dumped, humanity would survive.  The four acolytes were all down and apparently dead by the time Lydecker reached them, fingering the release on each of his pistols and deftly managing to replace a full clip in each weapon before Max's assailants could even fully assess the situation.

            "Let her go," the colonel ordered, training both weapons on the two Familiars.

            "Put down _your weapons or she dies," the smaller one returned.  "We know what she's worth, you pathetic piece of mundane flesh.  That's the only deal we'll make."_

            "It's over, you've been beaten," Lydecker shot back.  "Don't make it worse for yourself by refusing to accept the situation."

            "The front room has been secured," Zack reported as he and Set walked into the room, also training their weapons on Max's attackers.  "Alec is finishing up our business in there."  The two Familiars by Max glanced quickly at each other, both of them seeming to seek advice from the other.

            "It's over," Lydecker repeated.

            "Well, not quite," Zack said unexpectedly, an unexpected right elbow catching Set in the left temple just as he took off in a blur of motion, racing toward the colonel.

            The next three seconds seemed surreal to Max, every event playing out in slow motion, allowing her to agonize over the reality of what she was seeing.  Lydecker's eyes went wide as he watched Zack approach, appearing shocked as Zack raised his 10mm and fired a single shot that caught the colonel in the center of his forehead.  Lydecker's body fell backward toward the floor even as the back of his head exploded, splattering blood, skull fragments, and brain matter all over the stone wall several feet behind him.

            Max heard a sudden, high-pitched shriek, wondering at the similarity to her own voice but never realizing that she was the one screaming.  Then Zack was at the decanters, not wasting a moment in knocking one over into the well's pool.  Before he could reach the second one, however, Set was upon him, kicking the pistol out of Zack's hand as he began to rip into him with a razor-sharp kukri knife that glittered yellow-orange in the dim torchlight.

            Max could feel the shock in the two Familiars holding her, and she took advantage of their momentary lapse in concentration by rolling suddenly to her left, throwing the larger one off of her and into the water.  The smaller of the two men looked at her in surprise, just in time to see her hit him in the throat with a knife-hand chop that left him with a shattered trachea.  Max left him to suffocate slowly as she stood, trying to figure out what to do next.

            Zack had drawn his survival knife and was attempting to subdue Set even as he tried to explain himself.  Max noted that her onetime commander was failing in both respects.  "It had to be done," Zack screamed as Set parried a strike, allowing Zack's knife to glance off of his own as he sent out a kick that jarred the other X5.  "Don't you see?" Zack pleaded.  "The ordinaries want us dead!  I say let _them all die, before they can kill all of us.  We can't beat them in a war, Set, you have to see that… there's just too many of them.  But if we kill them all now, all that's left for us to deal with is the Familiars."  Zack quickly ducked under another kick and tried a counter-punch of his own, all the while keeping distance between himself and his foe, struggling to catch his breath enough to continue making his case.  "With the ordinaries out of the way, we'll at least be able to see the Familiars coming at us," he gasped.  "We'll only have one enemy to deal with. We'll be able to create a world just for us, for the transgenics.  It's the right decision."_

            "Wrong," Set growled, refusing to be drawn into a debate as he continued to seek an opening in his opponent's defenses.  As they continued fighting, Max simply stood passively, gazing blankly at her brothers as she tried to figure out what to do next.

            "I boosted the signal," Logan's voice announced, now coming through perfectly clearly.  "Max, what's going on?  Did they succeed?  Report."

            "We lost," Max muttered.  "Oh my God, Logan, we lost."  Her stomach lurched for a brief moment, just before it went about tying itself up in knots.  _Logan is going to die, she realized.  She could see the snake's blood slowly diffusing through the pool, the sticky liquid shimmering like oil on the surface of the water.  She could now see a definite current in the seemingly still pool.  __The blood... the plague... it's going to get out into the world.  There has to be a way to stop it!  She looked around, trying to find someone to tell her what to do next.  But Lydecker, her old mentor, now lay dead, and Zack, the one X5 she had trusted implicitly, had betrayed them.  "Logan," Max said quickly.  "What can I do?"_

            "You have to let me know what's going on, Max," he responded anxiously.

            "We don't have time for that," Max answered, her voice cracking painfully as she spoke.  She kept watching Set and Zack go at it, and suddenly Set saw the mistake he had been waiting for – Zack lunged just the slightest bit more than he should have.  In a lightening-fast counter-strike, Set slashed him on the forearm, causing Zack to pull back too quickly.  He lurched awkwardly as he placed too much weight on his left leg, and Set pursued hungrily, attacking low and slicing a deep gash through Zack's thigh.  In a flash he rounded off his backswing and sent a second strike across Zack's suddenly exposed abdomen, the kukri knife carving through Zack's vest and sending a spray of blood into the air.

            Zack started to gasp for air, and immediately gave ground, obviously conceding the fight to his opponent as he mustered enough strength to get around Set and bolt for the door.  "What the hell is going on?" Alec asked as he entered the antechamber, getting bowled over by Zack before he could even finish his question.

            "Zack!" Max yelled, part of her still seeking answers, both to why he did what he did, and what she should do next to fix the situation.

            "Let him go," Set spat.  He turned and looked at the pool, for the first time allowing confusion and a hint of panic to enter his eyes.

            "What's going on?" Logan asked again.  "Max?  Alec?  Zack?  Do you copy?"

            "It's all over, Logan," Set muttered as he drew a 9mm from the small of his back and fired into the pool, killing the last Familiar and adding a new patch of blood to that of the snakes.  "The Familiars succeeded.  The blood was released."

            "Oh my God," Logan replied.  "The plague --"

            "-- won't happen," Max interrupted.  She unstrapped her vest and dropped it to her side, then took off the sheer black tanktop underneath, leaving only a black exercise bra covering her torso.  She cleared her mind, making certain not a single thought was present to distract her.  _This is time for action, not for thought, she told herself.  "I love you, Logan," she said as she looked at Set and Alec, smiling broadly.  __Zack caused this, she reminded herself.  __Seems only right that he should give something back in order to make it right.  In a quick movement calculated to be fast enough to prevent interference, she drew her 9mm – the weapon she'd sworn not to use on anyone – __at least not anyone else, she clarified, and fired one shot straight into her chest, piercing her heart and instantly producing a fountain of blood.  An almost imperceptible squeak escaped her lips as her body fell into the water in front of her. __"The antigen in your blood is hundreds of times more lethal to this bacteria than the bacteria is to an ordinary," she remembered Lydecker telling her.  __"In effect, your body naturally produces an organism that can wipe out the Familiars' plague."  It all made sense to her, and she knew now the real reason for Lydecker having brought her along.  __It wasn't so that he could use my blood to treat anyone that was exposed to the snake's blood, she realized.  __That wouldn't have endangered the mission at all… it takes too long for the onset of symptoms for that to be a concern.  It was in case they failed that they needed me.  Like Zack said back in Seattle – "if we fail, if everything goes wrong that can go wrong, he says we need Max to be there.  Apparently she's the last thing we have to fall back on."  She knew Deck had planned for the possibility of the mission being fubar'd._

            "Max, no!" she heard Alec shout.  She was beyond caring, though.  She felt the water in the pool wash over her, and she was surprised to find herself wondering why the water was so cold… so very cold.  _Shouldn't it be warmer?  We are__ in a desert after all.  Her mind started to grow fuzzy, and thoughts began to merge into each other.  She knew the sensation well - she was dying.  She could remember the feeling from the raid on the Gillette Manticore facility.  __But no one is here this time to put me back together, she realized without caring.  __This time it's for good, Max.  Well, like you said - seems you're pretty messianic.  And after all, is there anything more messianic than dying for the cause?_

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            _No, not like this! Alec thought desperately.  He ignored the fact that Max had told Logan that she loved him.  He also ignored the fact that she hadn't appeared to have any similar words of affection for him.  All that mattered was getting her out of the water, getting her to a doctor so that he could save her, so that he could let her know everything he had thought and felt... and stupidly left unsaid.  He was hardly conscious of the fact that he was running toward the pool until he felt the wind knocked out of him as Set tackled him to the floor._

            "You can't pull her out," he yelled into Alec's face.  "She knew what she was doing, Alec.  We have to let her blood drain from her body.  That was the whole point."

            "What's going on?" they heard Logan ask again.  "Max?  Max?"

            "She's dead," Set answered evenly, not a hint of pain or sympathy in his voice.  "We can only assume, from everything that the colonel told us, that the antigen in her blood is destroying the pathogen that was released.  The Coming may have been averted.  We'll give her body a few more minutes in the water, and then we'll return to base."  Alec suddenly ceased struggling as he heard Set's words.  Somehow, in that one instant, everything became painfully real to him.  _Max is dead, soldier.  At least have the tact to wait until you're alone before you get all emotional._

            "Oh, no," Logan muttered.  "You may need a change of plans, Set.  I'm reading a small armor unit closing on your position."

            "The Familiars have armor?" Alec asked incredulously, the unexpected development making it infinitely easier to pull himself together.  "You've got to be kidding."

            "It's not the Familiars," Logan answered.  "They're Israeli regulars.  You have to pull out _now."_

            "Copy that," Set replied.  Alec knew the situation all too well.  After the end of the War of '13, Israel had closed off its borders to everyone and became a veritable police state.  Unidentified trespassers were shot first and sometimes identified later.  Questions were never asked.  It was the only way Israel had been able to survive ever since the great Arab leader, General Mehmet al-Quryash, had united the majority of the Arab nations after the War of '13.  The entire Middle East was arguably more of a powder keg now than it had ever been, and interlopers like Lydecker's team had a tendency to simply disappear.

            "Fish her out of there," Set told Alec.  "Let's just hope she was in there long enough to do what she wanted to."  As Alec pulled Max's body from the water, he quickly stopped to check her vitals, hoping that she was still alive, that there would still be some way to save her life even after she had decided to surrender it.  "Let's go," Set muttered, pulling Lydecker's body off of the floor and throwing it over his left shoulder as he simultaneously grabbed one of the handles on the remaining decanter with his right hand.  "Take the other side," he told Alec.  "We'll take this up the hall a bit and dump it safely away from the pool.  If the Israelis come in here and find the blood, they'll never make it out alive to tell anyone what happened in here."  The two transgenics lumbered along as quickly as they could, carrying their burdens with care.  Once in the hall they dumped the blood, and then raced up through the catacombs, hoping to reach the outside before the Israelis arrived.

            Near the exit, Set stopped a second time and picked up Krit's body, not even bothering to tell Alec that he was dead, also.  Moments later they were above ground, dashing across the sand as quickly as possible, barely making it to their Humvee before the armor unit came into view.  Only when they were safely back at the Mossad bunker, hidden from the pursuing Israelis, did either Alec or Set even look at the other.

_To be continued............................................_


	12. Those That Are Left Behind

James Cameron and Charles Eglee own Dark Angel. My use is in no way meant to challenge their copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned (or any other) copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons, either real or fictional, is unintended.

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**Author's Note: So now I guess I get to see how many readers come back after I killed Max.  I hope no one is _too upset about that… but it needed to be done.  After all, it was the only sure way to stop her whining about that damn virus.  Just kidding.  It'll all be clear real soon._**

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XII – Those That Are Left Behind 

            A stiff wind blew in off the Mediterranean, bringing the refreshing scent of the sea with it as it cooled the airport tarmac where Logan, Alec, and Set were loading the bodies of their dead teammates into the back of their 747 cargo-conversion airplane.  Logan kept his eyes closed as he lifted each of the makeshift, plywood caskets, allowing his companions to do the job of guiding the bodies into the plane.  It was hard enough to accept that Lydecker was dead – he had escaped death so many times that Logan had started to think the colonel was as invincible as any of 'his kids' – but having Max die – again – was inconceivable to him.

            She had become so important to so many people.  He would miss the one woman he felt he would ever truly love, the transgenics would miss the leader that had risen unexpectedly from their ranks, and the world would miss the savior it never knew.  After placing Max's body into the plane, Set closed the cargo door and nodded to Logan and Alec, his face a blank mask.

            "We'd better get out of here," Set commented.  "I'm not comfortable in this part of the world."  For the briefest of moments Logan wondered at the transgenic's remark, and the irony of such a statement given his chosen name, but he held his tongue and followed the two soldiers up onto the plane.  With most of the aircraft converted to accommodate cargo, there were only a handful of seats behind the flight deck.  _It wouldn't even be crowded if we had all survived, though, Logan reflected gloomily.  He remembered the silent trip over from the States, the emotionless, identical expression that each of the transgenics had worn.  He had thought it amusing then, having pondered if, back at Manticore, Lydecker had taken an afternoon to teach all of his charges to make that same, grimly set face.  Now Set seemed emotionally and physically drained as he collapsed into a chair, and Alec seemed... off, somehow, as he walked up into the cockpit and took the controls._

            The bribes they had slipped the local officials worked like a charm, and they were given priority clearance for take-off.  In Logan's mind, they couldn't leave the Mediterranean region quickly enough.  All he wanted was to get home, and he sat silently, trying to figure out what he would do once he returned.

            "Thirsty?' Set asked as the plane's engines quieted down a slight bit.  They had finally settled in at their flight altitude, and according to the plan all would be well all the way to Seattle.

            "No," Logan muttered.  He eyed up Set's canteen, though, suddenly aware of just how parched his mouth felt.  Since the team – or what was left if it – had returned to the bunker, Logan had felt strangely detached, just as he had after the botched raid on the Gillette Manticore facility.  He had already seen Max die once before, and had barely recovered from that tremendous emotional blow.  To have her come back to him, to have his feelings continue to grow, only to lose her again…  He wondered if this time it would all be more than he could bear.

            "You really should drink at least a little," Set advised.  "Dehydration's a bitch."

            "Fine," Logan muttered, taking the offered canteen and gulping down the water, surprised at how absolutely wonderful it felt going down his sand-coated throat.  "Can you leave me alone now?"  Set only grunted in response as he picked his duffel bag up off of the floor, looking inside and pulling out what appeared to be a doctor's bag.  He then spent the next several minutes closely examining a scalpel, a small mirror, surgical staples and stitches, and several small vials.  Logan simply gazed in morbid fascination at the X5, waiting for Set to predictably roll up his left sleeve and go to work treating the gunshot wound he had all but ignored since returning from Megiddo.  After about twenty minutes, Logan realized that his eyelids were suddenly getting very heavy, and his chair was feeling extremely comfortable.  All he wanted to do was sleep, despite his inability to stop reliving the events of the day over and over again.

            "You gonna make another broadcast?" Set finally asked, finally breaking the deathlike silence when they were well out over the Mediterranean.

            "No," Logan replied groggily.  With Max gone he just didn't seem to have his heart in it.  _And it's not just the transgenic issue, either, he realized.  The gaping emotional hole in his chest seemed to have swallowed his heart, and he couldn't even find the will to report on anything, whether it was evidence of political corruption or a story on the repainting of crosswalks in Seattle.  He felt nothing other than an overwhelming desire to be alone, to cower from reality under a blanket in his old bedroom._

            "It's been awhile since Eyes Only said anything," Set pointed out.

            "And it's going to be awhile more," Logan replied caustically, stifling a sudden yawn.  He turned toward the window, hoping that Set would get the hint that he should shut up and drop the topic.

            "The plan includes regular reports," Set continued, something in his voice holding a hint of a challenge.  "We're supposed to target public opinion.  We can't do that if we remain silent… if _you_ remain silent."

            "Yeah, well... the plan also seemed rather dependent on Max leading the transgenics," Logan muttered.  "I don't see you giving her a hard time for failing to uphold _her responsibilities."_

            "Fine," Set said.  Logan heard movement behind him, and he turned to see Set standing, slowly moving toward the back of the plane.

            "I didn't really mean it," he said quickly, wondering at the mental image he conjured depicting Set bawling out Max's corpse for having the gall to up and die on them.

            "I know," Set responded.  "I'm just going to stretch my legs a bit, that's all.  Zack kicked my kneecap pretty hard... it gets pretty tight if I sit still for too long."

            "Fine," Logan replied, turning again toward the window.  He felt a gust of cold air as Set opened the door to the cargo compartment and disappeared inside, and before he knew it, Logan had unexpectedly escaped into the bliss of an invigorating nap.

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            Logan was jolted awake as his ears popped painfully, clueing him in to the fact that the plane was likely making its approach into Sea-Tac.  He looked out the window as they broke through the low clouds, bringing the familiar panorama of Seattle into sight below.

            "Already?" Logan asked.  Set only nodded in reply.

            "We're here," Alec said over the intercom.  "Fasten your seatbelts; I was never good at landings."  For the briefest of moments Logan wanted to smile, but he found it impossible.  First of all, he noted that Alec's voice held none of its usual mirth – it was almost as if he had made the small joke out of habit as much as anything else.  Logan knew that the recently escaped X5 was not dealing well at all with Max's death.  _And neither am I, Logan admitted, checking off a second reason not to smile.  __I don't know that I'll ever smile again._

            The landing was amazingly smooth, given Alec's apparent lack of confidence in his piloting abilities, and the plane rolled toward a large cargo hangar that Lydecker had leased for their purposes.

            "We're here," Alec announced as the engines' steady whir calmed into a retreating buzz.  They were out of their seats and in the cargo hold before the engines had fully died, and Logan fought a sudden urge to vomit as he looked again at Max's casket.  He hated having to unload her body from the plane.  It was the performance of such mundane tasks that made him face the reality of it all.  He moved over to the foot of the casket, straining the still-weakened muscles in his legs as he fought to maintain his balance with one end of the dead weight.  Set easily hefted the opposite end while Alec opened the hatch and lowered a small staircase.

            _"Help, get me out of here.  Logan?  Help me, I'm not dead!"  The words raced through Logan's mind, seeming to erupt painfully from inside the makeshift coffin, and then he realized it was just his imagination.  If Max had been alive, if she had been calling out for help, surely Set would have heard something; surely he would have reacted somehow._

            Logan's mind felt as if it shut down then, allowing him to be free of any painful thoughts or memories as he, Alec, and Set finished unloading the bodies of their fallen friends.  Once the simple job was complete, he turned to his two comrades, feeling dumbstruck.  "Now what?" he asked, hoping that one of them would be able to give him something else to do, something to keep his thoughts occupied.

            "Now we leave," Set replied.  "At least for now.  A customs agent is going to come in to examine the plane and its cargo.  The guy's on Deck's payroll, so it's no real biggie, but he prefers if no one is here to watch him as he shirks his duties."  Logan nodded.  "I guess we can meet up here again in two hours.  Then we can take Max and Krit to Terminal City… I'm sure they'd want that."

            "And Lydecker?" Alec asked.

            "I'm taking his body," Set informed them.  "He was concerned that someone might figure out he'd been alive all this time, and if that happened, that they would then start trying to figure out what he'd been up to.  I have to make certain his remains are completely destroyed, so that no one can ever figure out what he knew and what he'd been able to build."

            "Fine," Alec said evenly as he turned from Set and faced Logan.  "So, what are you up to, Logan?  Feel like goin' to the airport bar and getting' a few drinks with me?"  Alec forced his face into a grin, but Logan could hear the pain in his voice.  His nonchalant demeanor was, at least this time, all for show.

            "No, I don't think so," Logan replied grimly.  "I think I just want to be alone."  He turned to walk away, and suddenly decided he had no idea what he would do for the next two hours.  Surprisingly, he found he _didn't_ want to be alone, and even more surprisingly, he found he wanted to spend time with Alec.  _I must be in shock or something,_ Logan reasoned.  _There's no other way in the world I could possibly want to spend time with him._  "Alec, wait up," Logan suddenly called out.  "I think I'll have that drink with you, after all."

            The two men walked out of the cargo hangar quickly, making a beeline for the bar.  As they walked through the tunnel, Logan's attention was drawn to a young boy, maybe fifteen, standing by a public phone bank and staring back at him.  Just as he started to turn away, the kid motioned for him to walk over.  Wondering why he was complying, Logan did so, looking the youth over carefully, noting every feature and searching for possible threats.

            The boy was about 5'10" and maybe 150 lbs., with short-cropped brown hair and dull, unimpressive eyes.  "What?" Logan asked as he came into talking distance.

            "I'm Puck," the child replied.

            "Okay," Logan said hesitantly, wondering what he was expected to say to that.

            "I'm one of Deck's kids, an X6," Puck explained.  "I was told that if he didn't come home, that I should report in to you."

            "Oh," Logan said, finally understanding.  "And what makes you think you should say anything to me?"  He finally confronted the question of whether or not he would, or even could, take over for Lydecker, if he dared pick up where the colonel had left off in his fight for the transgenics.  _I'm no soldier, _he reminded himself.  _If I do this, I could get people killed.  On the other hand, if I don't do it, there's no telling how many might die._

            "You fit the description I was given," Puck answered.  "Maybe I'm looking for someone else."

            _Okay, moment of truth,_ Logan told himself, knowing that his next words would likely decide the course of the rest of his life.  "No, you're not looking for someone else," he said.  "I'm the one Lydecker --"

            A loud bang woke Logan with a start, and he gazed around, seeing that he was still on the airplane.  A quick glance out the window confirmed that they were indeed still at their cruising altitude, and that they were now over land.  _What a weird dream._  He looked around, trying to see what had knocked him out of his deep sleep, and saw Set's duffel bag sitting on the floor.  Remembering that Set had left his bag on the seat, Logan assumed that it had fallen and woken him up.  _Gotta be at least a few heavy weapons in there,_ he reasoned.  He looked around the cabin and saw that Set was nowhere to be seen.

            "Set?" Logan called out weakly, vaguely remembering the X5 mentioning that he needed to move around a bit to keep his knee loosened up.  Logan stood wearily and walked back to the cargo hold.  He opened the door, and settled his gaze on Set.  _What the hell?!_

            "Get out and shut the door!" Set yelled, his booming voice reverberating off the cold steel walls.  "Biohazard, Logan!"  Logan realized what Set meant, and quickly closed the door.  The X5 had, for some reason, opened Max's casket.  There had been blood all over the floor in the small confines of the hold, and if it was Max's blood, with its genetically targeted virus in it, Logan knew that he might very well die if he didn't get out.  He hadn't had time to process everything he'd seen, and now Logan closed his eyes, trying to piece together everything that had been laid out before him moments earlier.

            "What are you doing in there?" Logan called through the door as he struggled to fit together the pieces of his mental image.

            "Hold on," Set yelled back.  "Stand back from the door, Logan.  I'm coming out."  Logan did as he was told, backing away from the door and going to sit once more on his seat.  A minute later, Set had emerged from the cargo hold, his hands clearly stained with freshly applied iodine, the dark brown contrasting sharply with a deathlike pallor that made him appear as if he was a member of the walking dead.  His weak, ghastly appearance was only enhanced as he all but collapsed against the doorframe, barely managing to keep his feet under him.

            "You look like hell," Logan muttered.

            "I bet," Set murmured in reply.  "Feel like it, too."

            "What are you doing back there?" Logan asked.

            "When I got up before, it wasn't because of my knee," Set explained.  "It was because I felt sick."

            "Sick?" Logan asked, wondering at such a weird occurrence.  _Transgenics aren't supposed to get sick…_  "Oh, no.  You were exposed to the pathogen?  Could I --"

            "No," Set cut him off.  "If you had been exposed you'd probably be dead by now.  But I couldn't take the chance that I could infect you, so I went into the back and cut into Max a little until I found a bit of blood to draw out.  Then I injected it into me.  She's the cure, remember?"

            "Yeah."

            "Well, I'm trying to get as much as I can out of her while it's still possibly viable," Set explained.  "I know Lydecker has some people culturing the antigen that her body produced, but I don't see any harm in coming up with an emergency supply for the transgenics that set up shop in Terminal City.  I think she would have wanted it that way."

            "Yeah, probably," Logan agreed, fighting off a strange wave of dejávouz as he remembered a part of his dream.  Set turned his back and staggered back into the cargo hold, amazing Logan with his ability to keep functioning while obviously so sick.

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            It was a couple of more hours before the door to the cargo cabin opened again, and Set walked out, looking, if anything, even worse than he had before.  He now wheezed with every breath, and he stared intently at the floor ahead of him, as if he needed to concentrate on the simple act of walking.

            "Are you all right?" Logan asked, standing from his seat and moving to help the X5.

            "Stay back," Set warned in a raspy, barely audible voice.  "The virus, Logan.  Don't forget the virus."  He managed to reach his seat and collapsed into it, closing his eyes immediately.

            "Don't take this the wrong way, but you look even worse than before," Logan commented.  "I would have expected you to get better after injecting Max's blood into you."

            "I can imagine," Set replied.  "Could you do me a favor and find some water around here?"  Logan was up in an instant, rooting through his own travel pack and producing two bottles of water.  He handed them to the transgenic, who immediately drained them and seemed to relax a slight bit.

            "Did you finish what you needed to back there?" Logan asked.

            "For now," Set responded with a nod.  "I'll probably have to get Alec to help me with some things later, but he's rather busy at the moment."  Logan found himself wanting to keep the conversation going, hoping that as long as Set was talking, he wouldn't die.  With the way he looked, Logan was quickly deciding that death was a very real possibility for Manticore's escaped slinger.

            "So you stopped Zack," Logan commented.  Set nodded.  "Why?"

            "Why?" Set repeated.  "Are you serious?"

            "Of course I'm serious.  Don't take this the wrong way, but of all the people I've ever met, you're not exactly the most likely to inspire warm fuzzies."

            "Gee, thanks Logan," Set answered with a surprising amount of sarcasm that belied the painful grimace that erupted across his face.

            "Seriously," Logan prodded, "why'd you stop him?  Zack wanted to bring on The Coming to wipe out the ordinaries, to sort of remove one threat so that your people could then focus on the Familiars.  It seemed like a tactically sound plan."

            "To most people, maybe," Set agreed.  "Most of the transgenics would likely have thought so, anyway.  I'm just not one of them.  My training was different than theirs, remember?"

            "Of course."

            "Well, the slingers were actually allowed to watch some television from the outside," Set said.  "We had to keep up on pop culture and the like, to better fit in if our presence was exposed, and Lydecker thought certain valuable lessons could be gleaned about a culture's society by watching what it produced as entertainment.  There was one night when he had the slingers watch a show called The Twilight Zone.  Have you ever heard of it?"

            "Sure," Logan responded with a nod.  "It's one of my all-time favorites."

            "There was one episode in particular, it was called 'The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street'," Set continued.  "I don't know if you ever saw it, but a bunch of normal, everyday humans are driven into hysteria because a power outage is blamed on aliens that look human.  Accusations fly, violence and mayhem ensue… it was an enlightening look into humans' ability to be terrified by the unknown."

            "Like they are with you," Logan commented.

            "No, not at all," Set answered, his eyes narrowing, making him look almost reptilian.  "More like they're going to be when they hear about the Familiars."

            "What?"

            "The Familiars," Set repeated.  "They look human, they sound human, hell, they _are_ human… except they're not.  And the Familiars want nothing more than to wipe out every non-Familiar human.  Think about the paranoia that'll cause, Logan."

            "And the senseless death," Logan replied, shocked that Set seemed so pleased by such a possibility.  _Then again, causing chaos is exactly what he was trained to do._

            "The ordinaries would kill us if they had a chance," Set countered.  "So would the Familiars.  I don't see anything wrong in getting them to vent their paranoid hostilities on each other.  Zack had the right idea, but the wrong approach.  He wanted to kill the humans all in one shot.  I say let the humans and Familiars destroy each other – kill two birds with one stone, so to speak."

            "You would do that?" Logan asked in horror.

            "Do what?" Set asked, a disturbingly innocent look spreading across his face.  "All I'm gonna do is make sure the truth gets out there.  I figured you'd be fine with that, Mr. Eyes Only.  The humans will learn the truth, and they'll forget about us.  After all, they can see _us_ coming a mile away.  The Familiars don't afford them that luxury.  They'll engage in one of their oh-so-productive witch-hunts… I can see it now – 'If she can hold her breath three minutes underwater, then she must be a Familiar, and we can burn her.  If not, well, then… she's innocent… but still dead.'  It'll be fantastic, Logan, and it'll give the transgenics the time they need to get their act together.  By then I would assume that the hysteria will have run its course, and the humans will be far more willing to accept us on equal terms."

            "And that's really what you want, then?" Logan asked curiously.

            "Equality?" Set asked.  "Yes, that's all I want.  If there's a way to do it now, then fine.  If not, I say let them kill each other for a few years."

            "Not if I have anything to say about it," a third voice interrupted from the back

            Logan almost shot out of his seat and rubbed his eyes, doubting his own sight.  "Max?"

To be concluded…………………………… 

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**Author's Endnote: Sorry for taking awhile on this.  As you can see, this was a bit of a long chapter, and I've also been wracking my brain trying to decide whether or not it'll be worthwhile writing a sequel to this story.  The thing is, if I write a sequel, I have to know what it'll be about before I finish here, so that I can better set up the action that will follow.  So I apologize about the slowed pace.  Now I guess I'd better go finish up that last chapter.**


	13. Explanations & Preparations / Epilogue

James Cameron and Charles Eglee own Dark Angel. My use is in no way meant to challenge their copyrights. This piece is not intended for any profit on the part of the writer, nor is it meant to detract from the commercial viability of the aforementioned (or any other) copyright. Any similarity to any events or persons, either real or fictional, is unintended.

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**Author's Note: Last chapter… at least until the increasingly likely sequel.**

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XIII – Explanations and Preparations 

            "They took it better than I thought they would," Max muttered weakly, keeping her eyes directed toward the floor, purposely avoiding everyone's gaze.  The people in the storeroom with her – Logan, Alec, Joshua, Syl, Cindy, and Ashley – had all known about Max's departure before she left, but that didn't make Max feel any less duplicitous at the moment.  She had hated leaving, not only because she was obviously abandoning her responsibilities, but because she'd used Ashley to deceive her own people.  She had lied, and had expected everyone to hate her for that.  _But they didn't, she marveled.  __Then again, I guess it makes sense, she decided.  Everyone in Terminal City had escaped from Manticore only months earlier, having been raised to accept that people in decision-making positions didn't always let their underlings know everything that was going on.  Transgenics lived in a world where everything operated on a need-to-know basis, and they all accepted that when Max had left, they didn't need to know.  It was a tactical decision, and was clearly not personal.  _And besides, I **did** come back.__

            "So, you gonna tell us or what?" Alec finally asked, bringing them all back to the topic that Max had dreaded since she had finished her conversation with Set.  She'd put them off as best she could, first forcing them to return to Terminal City to make sure everything was all right, and then insisting that she tell the other transgenics that she'd left without letting them know, but that she was now back to stay.  _And maybe I hoped one of them would kill me for my deceit,_ she pondered silently.  _For whatever good that would do them, anyway.  I've been all but dead twice now, only to find that my entrance to Heaven is a revolving door instead of a gate._  She tried to chase that thought away, only to find that it had apparently taken on a life of its own, and wouldn't leave until it was done haunting her.  _What's more messianic than dying for the cause?_ she remembered thinking just before she lost consciousness back at Megiddo.  _There's one thing,_ she silently decided.  _Coming back from the dead… yep, it doesn't get much more messianic than that._

            "Fine," Max finally said, accepting that she had to tell her inner circle everything… or at least as much as she herself knew, no matter how much she hated even thinking about it.  _And why are you so weird about this, anyway?_ she asked herself.  _It isn't your fault or anything.  This is what some crazy old geneticist did to you._

            "All I know is what Set told me," Max began hesitantly, "and all he knew is what Lydecker told him.  Seems the colonel didn't exactly have a lot of confidence in coming back from Megiddo, so he made some contingency plans and spread around his information."  For the briefest of moments Max thought she saw a flicker of something – understanding? paranoia? satisfaction? – pass across Logan's face, but it vanished before she could even be certain it had been there at all.  _Being around transgenics has made him **very**_ _good at hiding his thoughts,_ she noted.

            "And of course, Lydecker only knew as much as he'd been able to uncover on his own," Logan added.

            "Yeah," Max confirmed.  "Well, I guess the best place to start is with the obvious – I'm apparently not an X5."

            "What?" Alec asked in surprise.  "Of course you are."

            "No, I'm not," Max retorted.  "The X5's are the fifth model in the X-series; they have the same set of non-human genetic enhancements, all the same strengths and weaknesses.  For the most part, I share in those modifications because they were the best that the Manticore program had to offer at the time I was put together.  But like you know, I also have no junk DNA.  X5's, as loaded up as they are with extra genetic information, don't develop rune-shaped pigmentation under their skin.  They also don't naturally produce an antigen to the Familiars' plague.

            "I was created and implanted in a surrogate mother at the same time as the X5's, but I'm not one of them.  Lydecker's information led him to conclude that I'm the prototype for what Sandeman referred to as the Omega-series.  Seems there were supposed to be a lot of me running around, each one producing the antigen, making it all but impossible for the Familiars to initiate The Coming."

            "Not that it mattered in the end, anyway, since Lydecker figured it all out in time," Logan commented.

            "As far as we can tell," Alec responded.  "All we know for certain is that we stopped them at Megiddo, and that the Israelis have almost certainly secured the area.  If any Israeli soldiers went inside and died, the government probably just blew up the entire underground complex.  But just because the Familiars can't release the plague there doesn't mean they can't go somewhere else."

            "I know," Max muttered, "and that's the one thought that's been worrying me ever since I woke up.  I think it's the thought that kept worrying Sandeman, too, because my ability to regenerate my blood – and the antigen in it – is far beyond the rest of the X5's."

            "Yeah, we all noticed that," Alec commented.  "So what's the deal with that, anyway?"

            "Well, Set told me that the gunshot wound sent me into torpor," Max said, returning to the uncomfortable task of telling her friends just what she was.

            "Like hibernation?" Logan asked.

            "Sort of, I guess," Max answered.  "Torpor is the generic word for a slowing of physical processes in response to some set of stimuli.  If torpor sets in because of decreased daylight and colder temperatures, it's called hibernation.  If it sets in to avoid scarce water supplies, like some amphibians and reptiles do in a desert's dry season, the process is called estivation.  For me, it seems that the stimulus is my body going into shock.  By going into shock, my body is already starting to shut down; my genetic encoding simply takes the process a few steps farther, slowing my metabolism to about a hundredth of its usual rate.  Some information Lydecker recovered indicated that the thinking behind this is that if I'm injured, my body should stay alive, at least barely, until the physical damage is repaired and I'm brought out of torpor through the addition of fresh transgenic blood and all the wonderful stem cells in it."

            "And that's what Set did," Logan guessed.  "That's why he was in the back for so long… he was putting you back together."

            "Yeah," Max confirmed.  "Then he transfused as much of his blood into me as he could.  In fact, he probably gave me a little too much – he almost died, himself."

            "Then he should have told me what he was doing," Alec interjected.  "I would have been happy to donate some blood for the cause."

            "But you were flying the plane," Max pointed out.  "We couldn't take the chance that you'd give too much blood and black out while we were thirty-thousand feet up."

            "Set could have flown it in an emergency," Alec retorted.

            "Unless he blacked out, too," Logan said.  "If I were the only one left conscious, we'd be dead."

            "Fine," Alec said evenly, sitting back and taking his eyes off of Max.  She wondered why he seemed so offended at not having been included, why he appeared to take it all so personally.  _Even Logan is pretty much cool with Set having kept it all a secret, and he and I…_  Max shook her head, wondering if she was more disturbed by the thought of what she and Logan shared, or what she was suddenly fearing that Alec might feel.

            "So just how much damage can your body sustain before dying?" Logan asked.

            "The same as most anyone else," Max answered.  "It'll just take longer."  She thought of a simple way to put it, so that Logan and Cindy would be able to follow along easily.  "It's like pressing the slow-motion button on a video," she explained.  "Imagine there's a scene where someone gets shot in the heart, like I did.  Most people get from the wound to death at a certain rate.  My body goes into torpor, so I get there more slowly, but the end result is the same.  It's not like I'm healing at my normal rate while everything else is shut down – it just doesn't work that way.  My body still requires medical assistance in serious circumstances; I'm simply designed to prolong the inevitable."

            "So, like you said, there's more time for someone to treat you," Cindy concluded.

            "Exactly."

            "Then why not put you together before we left?" Logan asked.  "It seems like time was of the essence.  Why wait until we were airborne?"

            "Because Set had his orders," Max answered, not bothering to hide her disgust at Set's rigid adherence to the directives of someone who was dead by that time.  "If he had just been completely straightforward everything would have been easier.  He could have treated my wounds and transfused some blood from him and Alec, and we would have been all right within twelve hours.  But Lydecker had ordered him to get me back to Seattle as quickly as possible, to help prevent the situation here from getting out of control.  I guess Deck figured I'd hold on long enough if I had to, just like I would have back at Gillette after I was recaptured a year ago.  Stupid doctors thought I was dying on the table, but I was just going into torpor then, too.  They were probably actually hurting me by trying to revive me; they weren't letting my body shut down like it was designed to.  That's why Set made everybody think that I was dead – so that you wouldn't try to revive me."

            "He should've said something," Alec growled.  "We would have understood."

            _Sure you would have,_ Max thought silently, finally willing to admit that she saw some kind of affection that went beyond friendship in Alec's eyes.  She ignored it, however.  This was neither the time nor the place for personal concerns.  "Maybe you would have understood, but you still would have gone about trying to treat me," Max countered.  "Set had his orders.  I personally don't agree with his actions, but I understand them.  The goal was to stop The Coming and then get back here as quickly as possible, so that we could deal with the threat from the ordinaries once we had faced the Familiars.  As it turned out, we made it back sooner than expected.  If you had waited until I was treated, we'd still be in Israel right now.  That would be unacceptable."

            "Fine," Alec muttered, apparently unwilling to debate the matter any further.

            "So what do we do now?" Cindy asked.  "I guess the Familiars are out of the picture for the time bein', but we're still surrounded by a butt-ton of National Guard troops.  If they come in here, Boo…"

            "I know," Max assured her.  "I think I have a plan; it's just gonna take some time.  I'm gonna make another speech, I guess, and then Ashley's gonna get Logan out to do the Eyes Only thing.  We still need public opinion on our side to make this work, and that sure ain't gonna happen as long as we're cooped up in here, stayin' completely silent."  Max was surprised to find herself sad to see her clone go, but Ashley had done her part.  She still had a normal life to return to, and a family to take care of.  She had already done more than Max had ever hoped.

            "And then what?" Alec asked.  "You think they're just gonna let us leave here, to go on our merry way?"

            "That's exactly what I think," Max assured him.  "We just have to find a way to make it worthwhile for someone in power to take that step, to give us a fair shake."

            "Fine," Alec grumbled, though he was obviously dubious about their chances for success.  Max thought she could almost see Alec mentally designing the tombstone he figured he'd need within the next few days.

            "And what about White?" Joshua asked.  "He killed Annie, Max.  I won't let him go."  For the first time, Max saw in Joshua's eyes a burning rage that frightened her.  When she had left for Israel, she'd noticed how much her friend had increased his confidence.  Now he appeared willing to demand a place for his own agenda in the grand scheme.  _I'll have to tread lightly,_ she knew.  She couldn't allow him to simply kill anyone, no matter how heinous that individual's crimes might be.  But she also wanted White's head on a platter, herself.

            "We'll deal with White," Max promised.  "Help me take care of everyone else, and I promise I'll go to the ends of the Earth with you if that what it takes to get justice."  Joshua smiled in satisfaction, though his eyes still glowed with a fierce intensity.

            "I'll help you, too, big fella," Alec suddenly promised, drawing a surprised stare from Logan.  Max knew what Logan was thinking – he was surprised that Alec displayed an interest in helping anyone other than himself.  _And if we can get Alec to be a team player, we can do anything,_ Max told herself.  This just might work out, after all.

**XIV **–** Epilogue**

            Logan stood passively, soaking in the scene as 'Max' once again took the makeshift stage before her people.  This time, however, it was truly her.  Ashley, overjoyed to be free of the burden of leadership, had joined the ranks of her people, noticeably the only one distinctly disinterested in what her clone was saying.

            "I know all of you are scared," Max stated, her voice holding far more strength than the rest of her body appeared to.  Logan knew that Max was still badly injured and needed time to heal.  Time was not a luxury that any of them had, though.  "We've been barricaded in here for over a week, now," she continued, "and we may be in here for far longer.  I know many of you are wondering why we're doing this, what we hope to accomplish, or even whether you would have a chance of slipping out of here as I did, though you aren't planning on coming back later.  We're staying here because this is the best chance we will ever have to bring our case before humanity.  A majority of the surviving transgenics are here, and we pose a definite risk to our nation's security – the government has no choice but to deal with us right now.

            "We're all soldiers, and as soldiers we know that there's strength in numbers and in unity of purpose.  Now we'll demonstrate this fact to the ordinaries, and we'll let them know our purpose.  It's simple, really – we want to live in peace.  That's really not too much to ask.  We want to be free to leave here if we want, or stay if that's what we prefer.  I know we won't fail – it's our destiny."

            "Damn right," a newly arrived transgenic muttered, drawing a smile from Logan.  He had to admit that he was very impressed with Max's rapidly developing ability to work a room.

            Logan found himself entranced by Max's words, swept off his feet by a charisma he had never seen in her before.  So often she had sought privacy and freedom from responsibility, but now, here, he saw Max in a new light.  She had truly developed into a leader and a visionary.  _If anyone will ever lead the transgenics to peace, it'll be her, he knew.  __And if it's at all possible to do it peacefully, she'll find a way.  He was suddenly knocked out of his reverie by the vibration of his cell phone.  Taking another few steps to his right, seeking the concealing shroud of a nearby shadow and hoping he wouldn't disrupt Max's speech, Logan answered the call even as he tried to figure out who it could be.  "Hello?" he asked uncertainly._

            "Kilroy?" a young voice asked.  "I was told that at this number I would be able to reach someone called Kilroy.  It's my understanding that your true identity is to remain classified."

            "Umm… okay," Logan replied hesitantly.  "Who's this?"

            "You can call me Mercutio," the young boy said.  "I'm the head of TRC-913 Gamma Orion.  Colonel Lydecker's death has been confirmed, and I'm following established protocol and checking in."

            "Excuse me?" Logan asked awkwardly.  "You're the head of what?"

            "TRC-913 Gamma Orion," Mercutio repeated.  "You know, Transgenic Resistance Cell designation 9-1-3 Gamma Orion," he explained.  "I was under the impression that the colonel had given you a certain piece of microfilm."

            "Ah yes, that," Logan said, finally understanding.  He remembered Lydecker's words, _"There's lots of fighting to go, and in the end the ordinaries will have to deal with the fact that one of their own is leading the Manticore transgenics."  Logan knew it was true.  If there was to be an organized resistance, it would have to be headed by an ordinary.  _But do I want to be the ordinary that runs it?_ he asked himself, his mind racing along even as he wondered if he was taking too long to say anything else to his mysterious caller.  _It has to be me,_ he suddenly decided in a moment of clarity, feeling a sense of the rightness of the situation pass over him.  He remembered the dream on the plane, when he had already dealt with this situation and made this decision.  _It was my subconscious telling me something,_ he knew.  _This is what I was meant to be.  There's no sense in running._  "So what do we do from here?" Logan asked uncertainly._

            "I wasn't told whether or not your base of operations has been established," Mercutio said.  "Once you're up and running, contact me.  All of the necessary contact information should be on the microfilm."

            "Okay," Logan said.  "I'll be in touch."  He folded up his phone and put it in his pocket, turning back to Max as she was finishing her speech.  _Kilroy? he thought with amusement.  __Yeah, I don't know much about Lydecker, but it seemed like he had some kind of witty sense of humor like that._

            "So that's the plan," Max said, her voice rising in pitch as she reached the climax of her address.  "And I have to remind you all once again that we're here for the good of the whole.  At some point, every single one of you will likely hold the fates of the rest of us in your hands.  I know trust is something hard to give away.  I know it's not really something that we were trained for.  But be that as it may, I'm asking you to trust me when I speak with the ordinaries outside, just as I trust every one of you to stay here with me, and to perform your duties flawlessly.

            "We're all transgenics," she said with a sweeping gaze.  "And while perfection may be our goal, it's a goal that is certainly attainable for us."

            Logan looked at Max, hardly aware that a small tear had formed in the corner of his eye.  _I'm so sorry Max, he thought silently.  He could see that Max had finally embraced her destiny – the messianic fate that Sandeman had planned for her from the beginning.  __Set was right, Logan realized miserably.  __Humanity will never just give in and accept transgenics.  There's too much fear, too much inclination toward persecution and violence.  They'll do everything they can to wipe out anyone that's different, from the transgenics to the Familiars, and someone's going to have to make sure that doesn't happen.  It's sad, it's deplorable… and it's necessary.  I'll hate myself forever for doing this, but Lydecker was right, it has to be me.  I'm the only one he could trust, and I'm the only one that would move heaven and earth to keep Max safe._

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            "Every one of my concerns was ignored," Ames White complained to the thin, alluring figure that kept to the shadows.  She was a woman known only as Lillith, and White's limbs were rattling nervously just being in the same room with her.  "I warned my superiors months ago that the transgenics were a threat.  They ignored everything I said, and now they've ruined everything."

            "Not everything," Lillith cooed.  "The Coming may have been temporarily averted, but it may yet be unleashed on the world."

            "How?" White asked.  "The Israelis destroyed the Well of the Seas.  Without that--"

            "We'll simply have to come up with something else," the woman interrupted.  "Surely the son of Sandeman is not so completely wrapped up by prophecy and ritual that he can't see other possibilities."

            "But the antigen in that damned transgenic's body is going to prove an insurmountable obstacle," White pointed out.  "We can only assume that she's alive out there somewhere, and that if she knew about the Well that she also knows about the pathogen… and how she can stop it.  Even if we released all of the stored blood we have remaining, it certainly won't be enough to initiate The Coming before humanity would be able to start culturing her body's antigen."

            "The transgenic woman is irrelevant," Lillith shot back, her voice making it clear that she was not going to debate the issue.  "She did what she was apparently designed to do, and her success meant our failure.  There's no point in wasting our precious resources by concerning ourselves with her any longer.  Sandeman was good, but he didn't have enough time to come up with ways to stymie all of our contingency plans."

            "What contingency plans?" Ames asked.

            "Agent White, surely you weren't foolish enough to believe that we spent millennia planning the end of the world, only to leave ourselves with but one option," Lillith said, her voice suddenly cold but holding a disturbing hint of amusement.  "There are other ways to destroy humanity, no matter how inefficient they may be.  True, The Coming could have been brought about instantly through the Well of the Seas, but we'll yet prevail.  Give us time, Ames."

            "And the transgenics?" White pressed.

            "Be gone," Lillith's voice bellowed.  "I told you – forget them.  Until you have absorbed that most simple of directives, you will bother me no more."

            Ames White did as he was told, turning on his heel and walking quickly from Lillith's chambers.  _They're all wrong,_ he seethed.  _The transgenics were designed to stop us.  Not just to prevent The Coming, but to face us on equal terms and protect humanity.  My father may have been many things, but he was certainly not foolish or inattentive to detail.  My superiors have absolutely no idea what kind of threat they're facing, and they're too damned self-important to listen to any conflicting opinions._  White's pace began to quicken as new thoughts raced through his head.

            _There are others in our ranks who have faced the transgenics, who must know that we are no longer unquestionably the top of the evolutionary ladder in this world.  I'll find more who know what I know.  If my superiors wish to ignore the truth, they're welcome to… but I won't.  I'll do what needs to be done.  I'll destroy every single one of the transgenics.  And I'll start with 452._

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            Set walked through the shot-up apartment, ignoring the stiff wind that blew a light mist in through the window.  It was indicative of the depressed economy that Foggle Towers had yet to find a new tenant for Logan's old apartment.  _Well, until now, that is,_ Set thought.

            The penthouse was certainly large enough to fit his needs, he simply wondered at the wisdom of returning their forces to Logan's original homestead.  He accepted the idea that White and his Familiars were unlikely to return to a place they had already all but destroyed, but something about the decision still seemed too risky.  _But this is what the boss wants,_ he reminded himself.  _You swore an oath to obey him come what may.  I'm not going to start questioning his orders on the first day._

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            Zack sat quietly, poring over the data he had been able to decode from one of Lydecker's captured logs.  _The guy was certainly paranoid,_ the X5 noted.  All of the information had been broken up into small files, each of which had a twenty-character decryption code, including not only numbers, but also several languages.  Each of the twenty characters could be any one of over a hundred possibilities.  _I don't know that I'll ever get more than a few of these opened,_ Zack finally admitted, thankful that he had at least been able to get the main file open.  It contained the highlights of Lydecker's research, as well as the location of a prep school that the Familiars ran in Connecticut.

            "Lucius," Zack said as he pushed down the com button in front of him.  "Gather up your team and report to the briefing room."

            "Aye, sir," Lucius answered.

            _At least we have someplace to start,_ Zack decided.  _With any luck we'll be able to find enough information at that prep school to lead us to at least one more worthwhile target.  And then one more after that, and another after that…_  The transgenic's thoughts continued along that line, thinking through his simple strategy for finding Familiar targets and destroying them.  _It's a war,_ he reminded himself.  _And maybe Max has her heart set on peaceful coexistence, but it'll never work.  She'll figure that out eventually, but until then, I'll take care of business.  My mission still hasn't changed – I will protect my soldiers.  Whether they want me to or not._

Fin 

**Author's First Endnote:** Hope I was effectively able to convey what the whole thing was with Max.  I did my best to spell it all out, but maybe I didn't do well enough.  If you have any thoughts on that topic, let me know.  Maybe I'll end up modifying this chapter a wee bit.

**Author's Second Endnote: Well, now that it's all over (sort of), let me know what you thought.  I'll pay attention to your comments (in a totally non-George Lucas type of way) and see if I can use any comments/criticisms/complaints/suggestions in the sequel (currently titled _Introducing the Serpent).  Until that's ready to start getting posted, feel free to check out some of my older Dark Angel stories (yeah, I know, that's a _really_ shameless self-plug).  Finally, a big thank you to all of you that took the time to write any reviews/suggestions/criticisms – all y'all rule.  And at the risk of irking anyone by missing any names, I want to especially thank **Cait**, **RagingConfusion**, **JoJo**, **coolbeans**, **Deb**, **Becky**, **cheetahluke**, and of course, **True Blue Healer**.  The continued reviews really helped keep me going.  If I missed anyone, I'm really, _really_ sorry.  Feel free to email me and chew me out ruthlessly._**


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